


The Y Files

by jinxauthor



Category: Dracula - Bram Stoker, Frankenstein - Mary Shelley, The Invisible Man - H.G. Wells, The Picture of Dorian Gray - Oscar Wilde, The Ring of Thoth - Arthur Conan Doyle, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
Genre: (sorry guys), Angst, Dark and Stormy Night, Gen, Invisibility, Mad Scientists, Mummies, Mystery Character(s), No Food Was Served, No Smut, Secrets, Unfortunate Dinner Party, Vampires, Werewolf, but that's about it, honestly some of them are just assholes, possibly some sexual tension, so many secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 03:42:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 116,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3963076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinxauthor/pseuds/jinxauthor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dr. Jekyll meets Dracula, other guests arrive, and a mystery begins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introductions

Of course it was a dark and stormy fucking night. That’s how these things always go, right? One can never travel to an unknown destination in a stolen car on a sunny spring day. No, it must be in the middle of a chill autumn night, on a treacherous road in the pouring rain.

The path twisted through the mountains at sharp turns that loomed suddenly out of the dark. At times he had to slow to a crawl because of the narrowness of the road. On his left the flashy sports car of unknown ownership hugged the rocky mountain wall, while the right side was bordered by nothing but a long drop to the forests below.

Henry Jekyll gripped the steering wheel tightly, feeling every beat of his heart as it pounded against his ribs. But he was not scared. He was angry.

He looked out the window separating him from the harsh outdoors and shook with impotent rage. He could not afford to lose his temper here. He took a deep breath and clutched the steering wheel even tighter.

The travel conditions were bad, but they were not the true cause of Jekyll’s fury. His foul mood had begun hours earlier, when he awoke to find himself behind the wheel of a vehicle he did not recognize, in a town where no one spoke his language, and no memory of how he’d gotten there.

After many years’ experience dealing with similar incidents, Jekyll was quite accustomed to the situation. He had made a quick search of his pockets, driving his hands roughly into the tight space of a pair of pants much too small for him. What he had retrieved was just a worn and battered scrap of paper. It was this little slip of instruction that had turned his annoyance into full-blown outrage, though the message was short. He read only his name and a crude map, followed by the short order “Go to Retras Castle.”

He should not have obeyed. He should have abandoned the car, made his way to the first British consulate he could find, and settled himself back home where he belonged. And yet as reasonable as this plan seemed to him, he knew it would risk too much. That other being dwelling within his subconscious might sense his intent, and could take over once again. Jekyll wasn’t sure how long he’d been unconscious this time. He was unwilling to relinquish control over his senses so soon after regaining them. Jekyll had no idea why Hyde dragged him so far out of both of their comfort zones. He didn’t want to know. But still, it was safer for the moment to comply with his wishes.

So he traveled on, against his better judgment, and grew more irritated with each minute that passed. The map was next to useless. It could have been drawn by a child. Busy as he was trying to decipher the twisting lines while navigating the dark road, Jekyll nearly missed the turn.

The road wasn’t much of a road at all. It was more of a muddy footpath, uneven and seldom used. The low sports car wasn’t built for such travel. It bumped along the ground, accompanied by sickening scraping sounds as undercarriage met rock. The headlights barely penetrated the darkness. The trees looming up on either side of the car were tall, seeming to lean over the road. At times the branches created a canopy that hid even the light of the stars from view. Jekyll was beginning to wonder if he’d taken a wrong turn after all when the road turned again and the trees abruptly fell back. He had come to a massive clearing, and in the center sat the very castle Jekyll was seeking.

The castle itself was nearly swallowed in shadow. But for a few lights shining from its small medieval windows, it would have been indistinguishable from the forests and high mountain crags that created its picturesque backdrop.

“Picturesque?” thought Jekyll suddenly. “Yeah, for a picture in a horror film.”

Jekyll pulled his car as close to the castle as he dared. There were no other vehicles present, and there was no driveway to speak of. He parked in the grass, but he didn't shut off the car. He remained in the driver’s seat, inspecting the old house in front of him through the windshield.

It must be an ancient place, he thought. The architecture, from the small windows to the battlements along its stone walls, was indicative of the middle ages. The face of it was covered in dark green ivy that appeared black in the night. Only part of the building seemed habitable, for the western wing had completely fallen to ruin. Indeed, Jekyll wouldn't have believed anyone was present in the ominous castle if it weren't for the lights shining out of the first floor rooms.

Feeling somewhat helpless, Jekyll finally shut off the car and stepped outside. The rain was refusing to subside, and Jekyll hurried to the large wooden double doors of the castle. He huddled under the archway as he knocked on the door, partially hoping no one would answer so he could go home, and partly wishing to be allowed inside and out of the rain.

The wait was so long that he had begun to think he really would have to turn around. He had just begun to wonder if it would be better to spend the night in the car or risk driving down the mountain again when the door swung open.

Jekyll knew himself to be a rather tall man, and so by comparison, he thought the man who answered the door to be exceedingly tall. Indeed, he stared down at Jekyll with small, piercing dark eyes. His thick, black eyebrows drew together as he frowned at this stranger on his doorstep. There was a coldness emanating from the man that would have intimidated Jekyll immensely, had he not already been shivering with cold and anger.

“What do you want?” the man asked unkindly. He didn’t seem like a man expecting guests, a fact which Jekyll ignored in his relief to hear English, even if it was colored with an Eastern European accent.

“An explanation and some clothes that fit properly, if you don’t mind,” Jekyll said as he pushed his way past the man. Now that he had finally reached the destination set for him, he was unwilling to wait in the pouring rain while being asked impertinent questions.

The man hesitated, one pale hand resting on the still-open door. He seemed to be unsure of what course to take. Would he throw Jekyll back out in the cold, or listen to his complaints? Jekyll thought that it was with more than a little reluctance that the man closed the door.

“Clothes I may be able to help you with,” he said in his heavily accented but perfect English. “But as for an explanation,” he added, “I think I am more entitled to that than you.”

Jekyll held his driving instructions out for the man’s inspection. “Retras Castle. This is the place isn’t it?”

The man looked at the paper in Jekyll’s hand before shaking his head slowly. Apparently the scribbled note was as incomprehensible to him as it was to Jekyll.

“This is indeed Retras Castle, but I still don’t understand why you would come here.”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Jekyll grumbled. “You don’t know him, then? Never sent for him?”

“Who?”

“Never mind, never mind.” Jekyll crumpled the letter in his hand and tried, unsuccessfully, to stuff it back in his pocket. His pants really were uncomfortably tight and not at all his style. “About these clothes… Well, you and I appear to be about the same size. Do you think I might borrow something off of you? I would be willing to compensate you, of course…”

“In a moment,” the man said, brushing away Jekyll’s request with a small gesture, “Tell me your name.”

“Nigel Pembrook.” The alias rolled over his tongue effortlessly. Years of using false names and dodging questions had made Jekyll a very convincing liar. “And you, sir?”

Unlike Jekyll, the man hesitated noticeably before answering. He seemed slightly unsure of what to say, until he shrugged and responded, “Vlad Dracula” with feigned indifference.

Jekyll laughed at the joke. “Oh, that’s a good one! And you could almost pass for it too.”

“Almost?” asked the man with a faint smile, “Tell me, where do I fall short?”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I could easily take you for a vampire,” Jekyll said, still chuckling, “After all, you live in this secluded castle - alone apparently. And with your accent and appearance…”

“My appearance?”

“Oh, you know. Black hair with the pronounced widow’s peak, dark eyes, pale skin… And your teeth…”

Jekyll stopped mid-sentence, for he had just noticed that the man's teeth were truly unusual. Although his lips were closed in a small smile, his upper canines protruded slightly over the lower lip. Jekyll continued to observe, horror-struck, as the man’s grin widened, revealing the full extent of his long, sharp fangs.

“Oh…” Jekyll said softly as the man drew closer toward him, “… Shit.”

A short burst of loud, rapid knocks interrupted what would surely have been the end of Jekyll’s life. The vampire, or so he appeared to be, halted his advance and turned his head in the direction of the front door. His eyes remained fixed on Jekyll, narrowed in suspicion. Jekyll merely stared at him blankly, wondering what the hell his alter-ego had gotten him into.

Breaking his gaze from Jekyll, the vampire once again opened the door to his castle to greet an unknown and uninvited guest. And somewhat like Jekyll, this newcomer wasted no time in bustling right inside.

“Dreadful weather, isn’t it?” The man said loudly as he handed a dripping overcoat to the vampire. “Nearly drove right off a cliff half a dozen times, right sweetheart?”

He was speaking to a second figure who had just stepped through the door. She was a beautiful young woman with waves of gold hair and blue eyes. She wore a long, cream-colored evening gown with only a light grey wrap around her shoulders to protect her from the storm. Both had been drenched by the downpour outside. She said nothing in response to her companion’s comment. She simply offered a shy smile to Jekyll and the vampire before lowering her gaze modestly, as if apologizing for her friend’s abrupt entrance.

The vampire, meanwhile, was staring at the coat in his hands with open disgust. Jekyll watched as he suddenly hefted the coat above his shoulder and threw it violently through the still open front door. He was about to close it again when the blonde woman darted past him, collected the fallen garment from the wet, muddy ground, and dashed inside again. She made no comment, nor acknowledged the brief incident in any way. The vampire watched her with curiosity before slamming the door closed once again.

During this whole encounter, the newcomer had prattled on and on about his journey to the castle. He didn’t pause his rant in the slightest, and hardly seemed to care whether anyone was listening to him or not. Jekyll thought it amazing that he didn’t even notice the fate of his coat, or his companion’s mad dash to retrieve it for him. The heavy thud of the slamming door finally seemed to remind him of his audience, for his speech halted abruptly.

“Oh, I do apologize,” the man said to Jekyll with a smile. Like the vampire, he also spoke English with a pronounced continental accent, though his was more difficult for Jekyll to place. Like his female companion, he was dressed in evening attire and his short blond hair was perfectly coiffured. He extended a hand to Jekyll, “You must be our mysterious host?”

Rather than accept the handshake, Jekyll pointed lamely in the direction of what he presumed was an honest-to-goodness vampire, “Um, no. That would be him, I think.”

“Sorry?” the stranger said, turning to face the irritated castle-owner. “Oh! My apologies. Then I take it you must be…?”

“Like I already told _him_ ,” the vampire interrupted, indicating Jekyll with a jerk of his head, “I did not send for you. I never sent for anyone. Now would someone kindly tell me what the hell you all are doing in my house?”

“I received an invitation.”

“Not from me.”

“No, you’ve made that abundantly clear,” the blond man said, sounding more than a little miffed.

“And who could blame him?” thought Jekyll silently to himself. “He just made the same trip I did, and apparently for no reason. Someone must have a real twisted sense of humor.”

The blond stranger had drawn out a small card from the breast pocket of his dinner jacket. He handed this to the vampire for inspection. Jekyll watched the vampire’s face as he read the contents of the message, acutely aware now of his pointed teeth. He marveled at how the newcomer seemed not to notice anything amiss, and wondered whether the vampire was seconds away from murdering them all.

But such a fate seemed unlikely for the time being. The vampire was too busy scowling at the card. “A dinner party?” he quoted from its writing.

“That’s right. I was invited to attend a dinner party here. You can see for yourself, the location is quite clear. And I was under the impression that I would be meeting other enlightened minds, men of science like myself, to share the results of our personal research.”

“And you believed it?” Jekyll said with a nervous laugh. “Who would hold such a party out in the middle of nowhere? In a dilapidated castle?”

Affronted, the man turned to Jekyll with a scowl, “You came too, didn’t you?”

Jekyll returned his glare but remained silent. He saw no reason to divulge more information, given the circumstances. Besides, who would believe that he had an alternate personality - one that not only took over his consciousness, leaving him without any memory of what had happened after the fact, but also completely altered his appearance?

“I suppose you do have a point,” the man continued, “This trip came at considerable expense to me. Given my circumstances, I would normally have ignored such a suspicious invitation. But my curiosity got the better of me. And so here we are, wet, tired, and feeling increasingly uneasy.”

The vampire was busy turning over the card in his hands. “Curiosity? And what exactly did you find so interesting about such an absurd invitation?”

“Because it was addressed to my real name,” the man said with a wry smile, “A name I haven’t used in years. I was curious to see the person who knew to associate me with that name after all this time.”

Jekyll opened his mouth, about to ask this man who he was, when his question was cut off by yet another knock on the door.

“For the love of…” the vampire muttered. He was glaring at the door but made no move to answer it. After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, Jekyll realized his mouth was still hanging open and snapped it shut just as another quiet knock sounded on the door.

“For crying out loud there’s a bloody hurricane outside!” Jekyll nearly shouted into the silence. “If you’re too afraid to answer it, I will!”

And so he did, moving to the door and grasping the handle before the vampire or the enigmatic stranger had a chance to stop him. Shivering and sopping wet on the doorstep stood a young man, his brown hair plastered flat against his head with rain. He was tall and broad shouldered, but even he seemed dwarfed by the size of the backpack he wore over his shoulders. The bag, as drenched as he was, must have been causing him some discomfort, as he fidgeted continuously under its weight.

“Good Lord, you didn’t walk here, did you?” Jekyll asked, taking in his haggard appearance.

The boy grimaced, “Well, it’s not really my idea of a good time, either. Are you going to invite me in, or do I have to stand in the rain?”

“To tell you the truth,” Jekyll said, standing aside to let the boy through, “I don’t think the climate is much better indoors than out.”

Once the door was secured against the stormy night again, Jekyll turned to see the boy shivering uncontrollably under the stares of the other guests. He couldn’t tell if the boy was nervous or simply freezing.

The vampire wasn’t glaring at the boy so much as the growing puddle around his feet, and Jekyll suddenly decided that vampire or no, he wasn’t scary so much as irritable – like a grumpy old man who just wants some kids to get off his lawn.

“Well,” said the blond stranger, “You certainly don’t look dressed for a dinner party.”

“D-Dinner party?” the boy stammered through clattering teeth. He adjusted one of his backpack straps and looked even more uncomfortable. “N-No. I was t-told that I could find h-help here. That there would be doctors…”

“Doctors?” asked the blond man, flashing a brilliant white smile, “Why, you’re in luck! I happen to be a doctor of sorts myself. What is it that ails you?”

The boy seemed incredulous at best. “H-Hold on,” he said, shifting the weight of the backpack and settling it down on the ground. If it was at all possible, the vampire looked even more repulsed. Thankfully, the boy failed to notice. He began pawing through the contents of the backpack, feeling through to its depths. Finally, he withdrew a folded piece of thick paper, which had remained miraculously dry.

“I-It says right h-here,” he boy said just before suddenly shaking his head violently. Water droplets flew in all directions from his wet hair, provoking a curse from the vampire and yelps from the other two men. “S-Sorry,” the boy said with a sniff, his hair no longer flat against his scalp, but curling limply. “But it’s here in the note. It says I have… That I-I h-have…”

“Do you mind if I take a look?” asked the blond man, holding an open palm out to the boy. He was still smiling kindly, but there was something cold about his eyes as he looked at the note. Still shivering, the boy could only manage a curt nod as he handed the message over with a trembling hand. The stranger had only to glance at the letter before he spoke, “It’s just as I thought. We’ve been had by the same individual. I received a note exactly like this; only mine was for a dinner party, while yours is for…” He paused, puzzling slightly over the word, “Lycanthropy?”

“As in werewolves? Ridiculous.” Jekyll stated before remembering that they were all in the presence of a real-life vampire, and that perhaps werewolves were not such a far-fetched idea.

The boy’s pale face reddened. “I-It isn’t. Y-You h-have t-t-to b-believe…” He broke off abruptly. As if frustrated by his own stammering, he shivered again, his whole body shaking as water droplets scattered in all directions. When he finished, he stood slowly, seeming more composed and determined. “A few months ago, I wouldn’t have believed it either. But I am a werewolf. I came here because that note said I could find doctors who knew about this kind of stuff… That they would have a cure…”

He stared at the stranger, the vampire, and Jekyll in turn, desperate expectation written clearly on his face. Jekyll was starting to feel guilty for dismissing him so quickly, but what was he supposed to do about it?

“I believe you when you say you’re a werewolf,” the blond man said thoughtfully, surprising Jekyll with his brash open-mindedness. “After all, stranger things have happened.”

He glanced toward his female companion then, sharing a secretive smile with her, “But I’m afraid there’s no one here with the information you’re looking for. Someone seems to be playing a joke at our expense.”

The boy’s shoulders slumped. He looked completely crestfallen. “You mean there’s really no hope for me?”

When no one answered him, the boy stooped down and hefted his large backpack onto his shoulders once again, a look of jaded determination once again returning to his face. “Then I’m leaving.”

“Good,” said the vampire suddenly, “Why don’t the rest of you go with him?”

Jekyll chose this moment to speak. After all, it was either speak out, or be forced back into the storm again and risk another of Hyde’s joy rides at his expense. What’s more, he was already surrounded by lunatics. The least Jekyll could do, as a sane man, was to descend into madness with the rest of them. Or so he thought as he said, “While we’re on the subject of werewolves, I believe that man may be a vampire.”

He inclined his head toward the castle owner with what he hoped was a casually respectful air. The man returned his polite gesture with a glare while the others turned to better observe him. A brief silence ensued, when suddenly the blond man burst out laughing.

“Is that so?” he asked, and Jekyll was shocked to hear a sort of glee in the man’s voice. Yes, he was clearly of unstable mind. “Well, this is shaping up to be an interesting night. What do you call yourself, Mr. Vampire?”

“I already introduced myself to him,” the vampire replied with a surly jerk of the head to indicate Jekyll, “He did not seem inclined to believe me.”

“Wait, so you’re really Dracula?” Jekyll blurted before he could stop himself.

“Dracula?” the stranger echoed, and the werewolf boy froze by the door. He had been prepared to leave, but his hand fell away from the knob as he slowly turned around to get a better look at the black-haired man.

“To be honest, I only told you who I was because I planned to kill you anyway. And I would have, if not for these two,” he directed his glare toward the stranger and his silent companion. Jekyll was beginning to think a glare was just his default expression; he didn’t seem to do much else. “Now I would be happy if all of you left and never came back.”

“Wait, _Dracula_?” the boy suddenly asked, drawing tentatively closer, “As in _the_ Dracula? Like, Bela Lugosi or Gary Oldman? That Dracula?”

The blond stranger seemed thoughtful. “This is actually starting to make sense. A werewolf and a vampire under one roof… And then there’s myself.”

“Yes, I’ve been wondering,” Jekyll said, “Who exactly are you?”

The stranger gave him a smile, “As I said before, I haven’t used my birth name in many years. But my invitation was addressed to Dr. Victor Frankenstein. That is who I am.”

Dracula burst out laughing, surprising Jekyll with evidence that he did, in fact, have more than one mode of expression. “Frankenstein! The mad scientist! Alive and in my house! I thought your monster killed you!”

Frankenstein’s smug smile dropped and he stared at the vampire coldly. The corner of his mouth twisted into a cruel smirk, “Is it really so amusing, Count? As I recall, you didn’t live to see the end of your book, either. A stake through the heart, wasn’t it?”

The vampire’s laughter died as suddenly as it came. “Not Count. I am neither a count nor a prince. Just Vlad, if you don’t mind.”

“Well then, Vlad, I think it’s fair to say we all could do some explaining. For example, if I’m the mad scientist, you’re the vampire, and he’s the werewolf, I can’t help but wonder who the hell _you_ are.”

He was looking straight at Jekyll, who had really been dreading this moment. He did not relish exposing himself to this group. If they were telling the truth, then he was staring at a room full of legendary monsters. And if they were lying, then they were all insane. Jekyll wasn’t sure which was worse. Then again, his own story was a bit hard to believe, wasn’t it?

“My name is Henry Jekyll. I used to be a chemist,” Jekyll said while he still had the courage (or recklessness) to do so.

It was then that a disembodied voice, as yet unheard by any in that group, suddenly announced, “And I’m the Invisible Man!”


	2. The Invisible Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which someone is naked.

Jekyll added his shout of surprise to those of Frankenstein and the werewolf. Dracula was the only man who did not scream, though he did utter a marvelous string of foreign curse words that Jekyll was incapable of understanding. Oddly, it was only Frankenstein's fair companion who did not react to the disembodied voice. She simply moved closer to Frankenstein's side and gently grabbed the sleeve of his jacket between her delicate fingers.

Frankenstein took no notice of her. Like Dracula and the werewolf, his eyes were scanning the room to find the source of the voice they'd just heard.

"Where are you?" Dracula demanded, his gaze shifting from one darkened corner of the hall to the next. "Show yourself immediately!"

"Uh, right. Love to help you out and all, but that does rather miss the point of being invisible, doesn't it?"

Jekyll puzzled over the voice. The man, whoever and wherever he was, had a sing-song way of speaking that made his accent difficult to place. Jekyll suspected that he, like the wolf man, was from America, but it was hard to tell without seeing the man behind the voice.

While the others occupied themselves with worry over where the voice originated from, Jekyll was more concerned as to when? After all, their small party had been conversing for quite a long time before this newcomer joined in. Had he been watching since Jekyll's arrival? Had he been waiting in the castle before anyone else, spying on them with each new arrival? Considering this option left Jekyll with goose-bumps. There was something decidedly creepy about being observed without one's knowledge.

"When did you get here, stranger?" Frankenstein asked, getting right to the heart of Jekyll's own questions.

"Oh no worries, I slipped in behind the wolf boy," the invisible man said. His tone of voice implied that he was very aware of just how unsettling his condition was to people. Actually, Jekyll thought he sounded rather pleased about it.

"And let me tell you, that was not a pleasant walk," he continued. "Speaking of, do you think we might move into another room? I think I smell a fire, and I would really appreciate warming up, if you catch my drift?"

"I'm afraid I don't," Dracula said. He had begun pacing the length of the hall slowly, his hands outstretched, searching for the source of the man's voice. Jekyll allowed himself a private smile, as he could tell from the rise and fall of the man's voice that he was moving around the room, casually avoiding such tactics.

"Well, think about it. Wolf Boy here just trekked the whole way in the rain with a big bulky coat and hiking boots - and he's still shivering! I made the same trip with considerably less protection…"

Dracula halted mid-step, "When you say less…"

"I mean I'm just flaunting what God gave me, brother."

Dracula's hands instantly dropped to his sides as he let loose another string of curses, this time in English so Jekyll was able to fully appreciate the extent of the vampire's creativity.

"Unacceptable," he said once his litany of colorful language had ceased, "I won't allow it. It's disgusting."

"Huh? What's the big deal?!" the invisible man cried out in protest, "There's nothing more natural than being nude! It's not disgusting at all! And anyway, it's not like anyone can see me."

"It's the principle of the thing," Dracula said decisively, "I don't like the idea of a man walking around my castle naked. Visible or invisible."

Frankenstein seemed to have finally awakened to the presence of the female at his side. He wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders and nodded in agreement. "I agree. In fact, the idea of you moving around like that without being noticed is even more of a concern."

"Gotta have a supply to meet the demand," said the invisible man. Jekyll detected a hint of amusement in his voice this time. "I travel light, ya get me? So unless Boy Wolf Wonder has an extra set of clothes he'd be willing to part with in that mountain of a backpack, I'd say we're all out of luck."

"Can't help you," the werewolf said with a frown, "Not unless you want to be as soaking wet as I am."

"S'all the same to me. I guess my bare butt will just have to remain as it is. Meanwhile, I think I spy a cozy looking armchair right by the fire in the next room, so if you gentlemen don't mind…"

"Wait!" Dracula demanded. Unable to look directly at the invisible man, his eyes were instead directed toward the nearest archway off the main hall. His frown deepened. He shut his eyes firmly and muttered something under his breath before heaving a great sigh. With eyes still closed, he said, "Please. I'll go get some extra clothes. Just… Don't sit anywhere. Will you all kindly wait in the den until I return?"

He managed to speak evenly, and even in a polite tone, but Jekyll could tell it with was with a great deal of reluctance that the words were spoken.

"There you go! Now you're acting like a proper host!" cried the invisible man.

Dracula's polite façade crumpled. It was quickly replaced by a sneer, "Don't push your luck. I still haven't decided if I'm going to kill you all or not. Now, if you'll excuse me."

Jekyll, feeling that there was safety in numbers, shouted at his retreating form, "While you're at it, a proper outfit for me as well?"

The vampire made a very rude gesture with his hand and continued walking. He didn't even bother to glance over his shoulder.

Jekyll ignored him. It was clear he couldn't expect any better behavior from Dracula. He turned to the werewolf boy instead, saying, "You ought to have asked him for some clothes as well. You'll catch cold as you are now."

The boy shook his head, "I'll be fine. Besides, judging from that response, I doubt he's the sort of person you can rely on."

Jekyll chuckled, "Perhaps you're right."

Frankenstein and his lady friend had already moved through the open archway separating the hall from the den. Jekyll assumed the invisible man was with them, though of course it was impossible to tell. Gesturing for the werewolf to go on ahead of him, Jekyll followed the others.

The vampire must have been occupying this room when Jekyll had arrived. A large fire was burning in a massive stone fireplace. An open book lay on a short wooden table right next to an armchair pulled close to the fireside. The rest of the room was furnished with a few antique sofas, their cushions sagging and faded, as well as several floor-to-ceiling shelves crammed with books. Once beautiful oriental carpets covered the hard stone floor, overlapping each other in several places. Where the walls were not covered in bookshelves, Jekyll spied a few small oil paintings, their images faded and dark.

Jekyll stepped carefully over some books that had slipped off the shelves to make a new home on the floor. Some of their bindings looked very old. Overall, there was a careless elegance to the furnishings in this room. There had probably been a time when many of these items had been worth a fortune, yet now they lay under an inch of dust, completely forgotten by their moody owner. The fire made things warm and comfortable, but Jekyll was ill at ease. The room reminded him strongly of his apartment in the aftermath of one of Hyde's visits.

The werewolf marched straight to the fireplace and removed his sopping jacket. The t-shirt underneath was soaked through as well, and so this item was also removed. While he busied himself laying out the clothes on the stone hearth to dry, Jekyll couldn't help but feel a little envious. He was itching to remove his own uncomfortably tight shirt, but one look at Frankenstein's female companion quickly steeled him against it. She still had not uttered a single word, but when she caught sight of the werewolf's bare skin, she blushed a deep shade of red and quickly lowered her head, her long blonde hair forming a veil over her face.

Jekyll felt instinctively protective of this woman. She seemed too innocent to be mixed up in a situation like this. He wondered what her connection to Dr. Frankenstein was, though he could hardly venture to ask. He just wished the wolf boy wouldn't make such a damn spectacle of himself.

The invisible man apparently had a different opinion of the matter. He smacked the werewolf's bare back with an audible clap. Jekyll could see the boy flinch under the force of the sudden blow.

"That's the spirit!" cried the disembodied voice, "Looks like I'm not the only nudist in the house!"

The wolf boy took a swing at the empty air, but he missed his mark. "You don't see me taking off my pants, do you?"

"Give it time. You'll come around. What's your name, anyway?"

The wolf-boy settled himself on the hearth with his back to the fire, enjoying its heat after his long, cold walk. "It's William."

"William? I like it. You can call me Vinny."

Jekyll gave a polite cough. "While we're on the subject of introductions…"

He stared pointedly in the direction of Frankenstein and his friend. The doctor stared back at him blankly for a moment before catching on.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, "My God! I've been so rude! This is my wife, Beth. Forgive me for forgetting, sweetheart."

The woman, Beth, lifted her head and at once rewarded Frankenstein with a radiant smile.

"It's all right, darling. It's a pleasure to meet all of you gentlemen."

Unwilling to meet William's eyes in his semi-nude state and unable to see Vinny at all, she settled for addressing Jekyll alone as she spoke. Jekyll was appalled to feel heat rising in his face. For God's sake, he was over a century old! He wouldn't forgive himself for letting a pretty face make him bashful like some lascivious sixteen-year-old!

"The pleasure is ours, madam," Jekyll replied with as much English dignity as he could muster.

"Wait, you're married?" Vinny asked, his tone incredulous. "How does that work?"

Frankenstein frowned, "Well, usually it follows an engagement period. Then there's a sort of ceremony with cake and dancing. A license is signed. And afterward a couple is said to be wed."

Jekyll was impressed by the amount of sarcasm the doctor was able to pour into his words, but Vinny remained undaunted.

"What I mean is, you're like, incredibly old, right? And c'mon. She's got to be… What? Twenty-two? Twenty-three? And she's okay with you being Frankenstein and all?"

"I've always known my Victor's true identity." Beth said at once. Jekyll was immediately in awe of her poise. "His age is of no importance to me. I love him as I will always love him."

Frankenstein beamed at her, clearly pleased with this response. Though when William chimed in with, "Okay, so how did you guys meet?" his expression clouded.

"Let's not discuss that at the moment, shall we?" he interrupted. "I'm more interested to learn about… Vinny, was it? How did you come to be here?"

"Already told you that, didn't I? Walked up with Will. Slipped inside so that no one would notice me."

"No, that's not what I meant. You already heard that William and I were drawn here by an invitation. Is it safe to assume you were brought here by the same trick?"

"Uh… Not exactly. You see, I didn't get any invitation."

"None whatsoever?" Jekyll asked, thinking suddenly of the crumpled map he had found in his pocket. Why had Hyde sent him here, anyway?

"No. It was more of a brochure."

"Brochure?" asked Frankenstein, Jekyll, and William at the same time. Beth looked politely interested.

"Yeah, you know. One of those pamphlets you get sometimes, advertising tropical destinations or historical towns. Mine said, 'all expenses paid, one-night stay with Dracula!' Naturally, I couldn't resist. I mean, Dracula, right? How cool is that?"

A heavy silence fell over the room as each man was left without a clue as to how to respond to this asinine statement. Thankfully, they were saved from having to say anything by the reappearance of Dracula, who had caught the tail end of the conversation.

"Are you a complete idiot?" he asked with withering disdain. Jekyll assumed he was speaking to Vinny, but without being able to direct his stare to any specific body, Dracula might as well have been addressing everyone in the room.

"Oh, I don't think so," Vinny said cheerfully, "After all, so far I'm the only one who was given what was promised him. That's more than can be said for Will and Frankie, amiright?"

"You aren't staying," Dracula said with simple conviction. He dropped an outfit of clothes on the floor with complete carelessness. A moment later, the same clothes were lifted again by an invisible source, and the location of Vinny was finally known. Jekyll thought there was something deeply disturbing about seeing the clothing filled out and resting as if on a body, but without a body present to fit the clothes. The cuffs of the long-sleeved shirt rolled themselves up, and the dark pants were given similar treatment. Apparently, Vinny was a much smaller man than Dracula, though he offered no complaints about his new wardrobe.

Jekyll was thankfully distracted from observing the bizarre sight any further when Dracula shoved another wad of clothing into his chest. He was actually grateful to the vampire for heeding his request in spite of his obvious displeasure, but he suspected that Dracula didn't want to make a spectacle of this seemingly kind gesture.

Still very much aware of Beth's presence, Jekyll silently excused himself to change clothes in the hall. His current outfit really was much too tight, and the material of the shirt was far too thin. It was a simple matter to tear open the front of the shirt, allowing the buttons to fly away wherever they pleased. Since Hyde was always so careless with Jekyll's things, it had become Jekyll's style to repay him in kind, destroying whatever it was Hyde left behind after his visits. Jekyll grimaced at the thought as he peeled off the pair skin-tight pants. Unfortunately, there was no way of knowing if these petty little acts had any effect on Hyde whatsoever. And unless he was sure that Hyde was as annoyed by their situation as he himself was, there could be no way for Jekyll to have satisfaction.

He was at least in a slightly better mood, dressed in the grey sweater and dark trousers provided by Dracula. The clothes were plain and comfortable, exactly to Jekyll's taste, and they fit him perfectly.

He was drawn out of his reverie by the sound of raised voices in the den. He could hear Dracula's voice clearly, bordering on a yell, "Why what?!"

"That's exactly what I'm trying to tell you!" followed Frankenstein's voice, "It's Y!"

"Why is what?! You are not making any sense!"

"No! You aren't listening! I'm trying to tell you that it's just Y!"

"What?!"

Jekyll stepped into the room hesitatingly, moving quickly to the werewolf's side. He could easily pick out Vinny's location now, of course, but he was still reluctant to be near a man whose face he couldn't see.

"What's going on?" he whispered to the boy.

William wrinkled his nose, "I'm not sure, actually. All I asked was who would go to such lengths to pull this sort of hoax on us, and then Dr. Frankenstein said something about why?"

"Well, that's just as good. I'd also like to know for what purpose we were all brought here. I mean, do you honestly think this is just a joke?"

"Well, I'm not sure. But I don't think that's what Dr. Frankenstein meant."

Meanwhile, Frankenstein and Dracula were continuing their argument, both of them becoming very red in the face. Beth looked deeply concerned, though she seemed unable to find a way to intervene between the two men.

"I think I see where the miscommunication is here," Vinny said suddenly. Jekyll watched him – or rather the clothes that encased his invisible form – as he made his way toward the battling duo. "Sorry to interrupt, gents," he said, tapping each man on the arm, "But could I venture a guess as to what's going on? I'm pretty sure Frankie here is saying that the source of our troubles lies in Y. As in the letter, not the question. Making more sense now, Drac?"

The vampire turned on his heel and stalked over to the armchair, settling himself into it before stating, "My name is Vlad. Not Drac. And the letter Y? It still does not make any sense."

"Do try to keep up, Vlad," Frankenstein said in a droll tone, "Boy – Er, I mean, William. Was there a signature at the bottom of your invitation?"

William thought before responding, "There wasn't a name."

"Are you sure?"

"Well, pretty sure. I remember wondering who would have left the letter for me, but I don't remember seeing a name."

Victor drew the folded letter from the pocket of his dress pants, smiling a little as William recognized it as his own. "I hope you don't mind, but I thought I would keep it on me in case there was some clue we would need later. And I think I was right. Do you mind taking a look at it again?"

William eyed him with suspicion, but accepted his letter. Unfolding it, he glanced over the message and said, "There's no name here. Just the letter Y."

"The letter Y." Frankenstein repeated. William nodded his assent.

"It was the same for me. I received an invitation with no signature other than that of 'Mr. Y.' I assume he sent Vinny his brochure and Dr. Jekyll…"

Frankenstein suddenly turned to Jekyll, confusion on his face, "Why exactly did you come here?"

"He had a map," Dracula said, "Someone drew him a map and told him to come here."

"Who drew it for you, Doctor?" Frankenstein asked with an edge to his voice.

Jekyll hesitated a while before letting out a deep breath. He would have to talk about his alter-ego at some point, he supposed. Really, with this crowd it was surprising that they'd waited this long before prying into his past.

"Sorry, no invite from the mysterious Y. Edward… Well, Hyde drew the map. He's always doing something stupid and inconvenient like this to me."

"But you don't know how he found out about this place? You don't know why he sent you here?"

"Well, no."

Dr. Frankenstein's next question was spoken more like a statement. "So he could have received something from Mr. Y and sent you to answer the summons?"

"I… I don't know. Maybe."

"Hyde is spelled with a Y, isn't it?" Dracula asked slowly, "Perhaps he is the one who sent you all here."

Jekyll scoffed, "You spell Jekyll with a Y, too, but no one's accusing me of being the culprit."

"Are you?" asked William.

"Of course not! I don't know who Y is, and I don't know what any of us are doing here! I'm in the same boat as all of you!"

"Well, since we seem to be getting nowhere with this discussion, I have a great idea," Dracula said in a slow, sarcastic tone, "Why don't you all get the hell out of my castle?"

"What a marvelous idea!" Jekyll snapped, "After all, we've all been so disappointed by this visit, haven't we? There really doesn't seem to be any reason to stay!"

Dracula nodded, "Exactly what I'm saying."

"Fine! Then I'll be going! Thanks for the clothes!"

Jekyll turned from the group and marched straight out the door. But Frankenstein was right behind him, Beth following his lead.

"Wait, doctor! Think about what you're doing! We have a real mystery on our hands, and I don't think we should just walk out on it!"

"What? And play right into the bastard's hands? I don't think so! Dracula is right when he says we should all just leave!"

"But what if we are here for some greater purpose? We shouldn't just walk out when we don't even know what's going on!"

"I really don't give a damn what's going on!" Jekyll shouted as he gripped the knob of the front door.

"But Mr. Y must have brought us here for more than just a joke! And if that's the case, what if he won't let us leave?"

"Don't be absurd!" Jekyll sneered, twisting the knob, "How's he going to stop us?"

"Doctor, I implore you, at least return to the den and get what we know sorted out with the others. Don't leave yet!"

"I'm not!" Jekyll shouted.

"You aren't?"

"No…" Jekyll turned to Frankenstein with a dark frown. Both of his hands were gripping the brass knob of the door so hard his knuckles had turned white. "I can't open the door."


	3. First Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Vlad throws a tantrum, they look for booze, and nobody knows the Wi-Fi password.

Frankenstein looked on in stunned silence as Jekyll continued to struggle with the door. Jekyll gripped the knob with both hands, twisting with all his might, but the knob refused to turn.

"What is the meaning of this?" Jekyll snapped. He had broken into a sweat. Frankenstein wondered if it was nerves or exertion that had got the better of him. "It's locked!"

"Impossible." Frankenstein said, pointing to the handle, "There is no lock on this door."

Jekyll scowled as he inspected the knob. "Well, it has to be locked. Why else won't the damn thing open?"

"Even if it were locked, it would be a simple matter to unlock it from the inside, don't you think?"

Jekyll and Frankenstein both began to search the edges of door, looking for some locking mechanism that would explain their present problem. But there wasn't much to the rock walls and wooden frame. It was easy to see that their search would yield no results.

Jekyll gripped the knob again and halfheartedly tried to turn it once more. Nothing.

"Perhaps something has fallen against the door on the outside?" suggested Frankenstein. "It could just be wedged shut."

"Or you were right and some psychopath really has trapped us all here."

"Come on, I wasn't being serious."

"You weren't?"

"Well… Not entirely."

"Step aside."

Jekyll and Frankenstein both turned their heads in the direction of the werewolf's voice. William stood just outside the entrance of the den, Dracula and Vinny peering over his shoulders.

Jekyll and Frankenstein obediently moved a safe distance away from the door, each of them waiting to see what William would do. Frankenstein already had a fairly good guess. The boy was tall and broad shouldered, lean but still muscular. That he planned to break the door open by force was obvious.

Sure enough, William shifted his weight to the balls of his feet and sprinted straight at the heavy wooden door. With his head down and one shoulder angled toward his target, he threw his entire weight into the door, hitting with a heavy thud. He sprang back just as quickly with a pained yelp, his hand instinctively moving to his now bruised shoulder. The door escaped without injury.

"Ow ow ow!" The werewolf continued to whimper, rubbing the sore spot on his arm.

"Yes. That's about what I expected," Dracula said with a sigh.

He pushed William out of his way with barely a tap, though the boy winced as the vampire's hand made contact with his wounded shoulder. The others watched as Dracula made his way casually to the door, stopping just inches from its surface.

Frankenstein watched him with avid interest. The vampire bore no signs of nervousness. He was seemingly impervious to the growing anxiety building up in the rest of them. On the contrary, Dracula surveyed the door with cool confidence, sure of his preternatural abilities. Though not as broad as the werewolf, and certainly not as muscular, it was clear Dracula had power of his own.

Dracula raised one hand and placed it palm down on the door. He gave it a slight push, as if he really expected something to happen. Nothing did. The door didn't budge.

"Huh," Dracula said after a pause, "That's strange."

He rested both hands on the door and pushed. The door began to groan. Dracula was pushing against it with all his might, and the wooden boards were squealing in protest, but still it would not budge.

"It seems we really are stuck here," Vinny said with a note of enthusiasm.

Dracula shook his head in disbelief, "No… It's impossible… It cannot be!"

The rest looked on as Dracula pounded at the door with his fists. He hit it, kicked it, and pushed it again, all with the same disappointing result. Then, without warning his body vanished, only to be replaced by an eerie fog that pushed itself against the door, feeling along the cracks and attempting to seep along the frame. Apparently, this tactic also resulted in failure, for the fog quickly condensed itself into the form of a large black wolf. Frankenstein was fascinated to see this creature appear so suddenly, and to watch as it scratched the wooden surface of the door with heavy paws. It desperately tried to dig underneath, but the stone was even more resilient than the wood.

With a long, piteous whine, the wolf gave one last feeble scratch to the door. Then it drew back its lips into a vicious snarl, and just as quickly as it appeared, it transformed into a large black bat which flitted down the hall and away up a flight of stairs.

The whole ordeal lasted less than a minute. The rest of the party was left in stunned silence. Frankenstein was too busy putting his mind toward processing everything he had just witnessed. How could the vampire manage such drastic transformations? There was no telling what the other's thought. They were just as silent as he.

That is, until Vinny spoke up, "Well, that was quite a performance."

"Yes, but unfortunately not very helpful," Jekyll said with a sigh. He lifted his hands to his temples and rubbed his head. Sure sign of a headache in progress, thought Frankenstein. He felt a passing sense of pity for his fellow scientist.

"Don't you realize what this means?" Jekyll continued, "We're all stuck here till… Till hell freezes over, probably."

"Or at least until our captor identifies himself and begins making demands." Frankenstein finally thought aloud, adding to the conversation.

"D-Did you see?" William stammered. Frankenstein and Jekyll both directed their attention to him, but from the looks of things, the boy hadn't been paying attention to their conversation at all. His eyes were wide open, thick eyebrows arched high and mouth left agape. "A w-w-wolf. He… He became a wolf."

"Yes, yes…" Jekyll said, rolling his eyes. He exchanged a glance with Frankenstein before continuing. "Alright, we get it. You're under a curse. But I highly doubt his transformations are in any way connected to your problems."

Frankenstein responded to a slight tug on his sleeve by turning to stare into the upturned face of Beth. She smiled at him, and indicated the stunned werewolf with a slight tilt of her head. "Perhaps we had better go back to the study?"

Frankenstein followed the direction of her gaze and smiled. He patted Beth's hand lightly before pulling away to grip William by the arm instead.

"Come along then!" he said in the most cheerful voice he could muster. "What you really need is a drink. Now, I'm sure the old vampire must have something stored away. We'll check this dreary den first…"

"I could use a drink myself," said Jekyll, sullenly following Frankenstein into the study.

Frankenstein felt someone pat him on the shoulder and jumped before he realized it was Vinny, still creepily filling out clothes with no body to claim them.

"I doubt you'll find anything," his voice whispered, emanating only inches from Frankenstein's ear, "Remember, he doesn't drink… wine."

"Very funny," Frankenstein said, shrugging off Vinny's contact.

Sure enough, a brief search of the study's contents was enough to establish that there was nothing in the room one could use for a bit of recreational drinking. Frankenstein did find plenty of books that appeared to be written by hand, though the language was indecipherable to him. Jekyll swore they must have been hundreds of years old. Other items of note included a dark painting in oil of a beautiful young woman, assorted black and white photographs of men in top hats scattered around the floor, and a human skull shoved under the sofa.

When Vinny pulled this last item from its dusty, forgotten dwelling and held it above his shoulders to test its comic effect, Frankenstein decided he had had enough of their search.

"This is pointless," he announced to the room at large.

"There's got to be a kitchen or something around here that would yield better results." Jekyll grumbled, in apparent accord with Frankenstein's own feelings. He was still on hands and knees searching under the sparse furniture, Vinny's last find having not discouraged him in the slightest.

"Do you guys really need a drink that badly?" William asked. He had spent most of the search standing awkwardly to one side, as if simply trying to stay out of everyone's way was hard enough work for him. "I mean, shouldn't we talk about what's happened? It looks like we're all trapped here…"

"Not until after drinks," interrupted Jekyll. He quickly pushed himself off the ground, slapping the dust off his hands as he straightened up. Frankenstein thought he moved rather quickly for a man with so much gray in his hair. And really, if he was being honest about who he said he was, the man had to be at least a hundred and fifty years old…

"You don't look a day over fifty," Frankenstein blurted gracelessly, following the train of his own thought.

Jekyll's face twisted into a frown, "What?"

"No… Sorry. I meant… Shall we try the kitchen, then?"

"Like I've been trying to tell you for the last fifteen minutes, he probably won't even have a kitchen! Hel-lo! The guy's a vampire! I'm I the only person who gets that this guy only drinks human blood?" Vinny held up the human skull as evidence of the truth of his words, but his taunts fell on deaf ears. Frankenstein and Jekyll were already headed out of the room, Beth trailing in their wake. Only William stopped for a moment, just to grab the skull out of Vinny's invisible hand.

"Have some respect for the dead, will ya?" he mumbled, placing the skull carefully on a side table before ducking back into the hall.

It took several more minutes of searching before they finally found the kitchen. The fact that most of castle was in ruin and all doors leading to the outside were closed tight shaved at least half an hour off their search. They found several other darkened lounge-type rooms, a few antiquated, seemingly unused bathrooms, and a dining room before locating the kitchen. It looked as little used as much of the rest of the house. An inch of dust clung to every surface and a colony of spiders had made their homes in abundance. Apparently, Dracula had little use for any of the rooms in his house other than his somber den.

"Told you so," Vinny said, tapping a copper pot that hung from the ceiling. He was rewarded with a fine layer of dust that floated down from the abandoned cookery, landing on his head and shoulders. Frankenstein smiled a little to see the basic contour of Vinny's head for the first time, the dust just managing to give the impression of hair, brow, and cheeks. Vinny, perhaps suspecting that Frankenstein was observing him so closely, quickly rubbed the dust off on his sleeve. "There's no way you're going to find anything here. I bet rats couldn't even find something to eat in this place."

"That's where you're wrong!" Jekyll cried out triumphantly. He emerged from searching through the cabinets holding a dusty black wine bottle in one hand. "Doesn't drink wine, huh?"

William wrinkled his nose, "Do you even know how old that stuff is? What if it's not good anymore? I've heard of people dying from drinking bad wine, you know."

"Then it would certainly put an end to all my problems, wouldn't it?"

Frankenstein couldn't tell if Jekyll was joking or not, but he certainly hoped so. Either way, Jekyll proceeded to uncork the bottle and lifted it toward his nose for a sniff. With a satisfied smile toward William, he passed it to Frankenstein for further inspection.

There was no label on the bottle, but the style of it indicated that it wasn't so old after all, just a little dusty from sitting so long in an unused kitchen. Frankenstein wondered for the first time if this castle had belonged to Dracula for very long. Perhaps this bottle was a remnant from previous tenants?

Not wishing to dwell too deeply on the fate of these imagined predecessors; Frankenstein lifted the bottle to his own nose, took a hesitant sniff, and with a shrug of his shoulders, sampled the wine.

"It's good," he said with a surprised smile, handing the bottle back to Jekyll.

He accepted the bottle eagerly and took a large mouthful of wine in one swallow. He then tried to hand it off to William, who eyed the bottle with suspicion.

"No thanks," he said, "I think I'd better stay as sober as possible.

Jekyll shrugged his shoulders and said, "Suit yourself," just before taking another long swig and handing the bottle off to Vinny.

The invisible man also hesitated before tasting the wine, but unlike William, he chose to follow Frankenstein and Jekyll's example. "Bottoms up!" he said cheerfully, and the others watched with curiosity as the bottle lifted itself in the air and the dark red wine ran down an invisible throat.

"It's very odd…" Frankenstein said with interest, referring to the unusual sight. He had thought the wine would disappear immediately upon entering Vinny's mouth.

"Yeah, kind of an odd taste." Vinny said, thinking Frankenstein meant the wine. "You don't suppose ol'Dracula mixed it with something, do you?"

"You mean it could be poisoned?"

"No, I mean maybe it's blood."

He did his best to make the last word seem as horrifying as possible, adopting a gravelly tone and drawing out the vowel, but the others were completely unfazed.

"Please, why would he do that?" William asked.

Vinny answered, "I don't know, emergency rations maybe?"

The bottle was once again passed on, this time to Beth, though she looked uncertain of what to do with it. Glancing toward Frankenstein for guidance, she met his eye. Frankenstein gave her a subtle shake of his head, and the bottle was quietly placed on the counter, forgotten just as quickly as the scheme to find it had arisen.

"Phones," William said suddenly, "We could call for help."

"Look around you," Jekyll said sneeringly, "Just look at this place! I'd be surprised if it's equipped with running water! Do you really think Dracula keeps a phone?"

"Well, maybe not him. Maybe one of us. Haven't you all heard of a cell phone?"

"Sorry, but a mobile doesn't really fit with the look I'm going for here," said Vinny.

"Hyde didn't exactly leave me with many provisions," Jekyll said, "Unless you count the stolen car."

Beth spoke up to address Frankenstein, "Darling, your phone…"

"Left it in the car," Frankenstein said apologetically, "I thought this was to be a dinner party, remember? I didn't want any calls to interrupt my evening."

"Well I have one," William said with a sigh, and he turned to skulk out of the kitchen.

Sparing a moment to glance at one another, the rest followed in his steps. William led them all back into the front hallway, where his backpack sat steadfastly on the floor, just as he'd left it. As the wolf-boy resolutely began to search through all the pockets, Vinny leaned toward Frankenstein and said in a stage whisper, "20 Euro says there won't be any signal."

"Absurd." Frankenstein said distinctly, not bothering to match Vinny's theatrics of speech, "You don't have any money to bet. Where would you have hidden it?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

William cut in before Frankenstein was obligated to respond. "Damn!"

"Oh no! Was I right? There's no signal? No Wi-Fi?!"

"No…" William said, turning to look at them over his shoulder, "My phone is gone."

Frankenstein was forced to repeat him before the news could properly sink in, "Gone? Gone where? How is it gone?"

"Someone must have taken it while we were searching the house."

"Preposterous, the only other person in the house is that vampire, and what reason could he possibly have for taking your phone?" said Jekyll, "Maybe you dropped it on your way here."

"Impossible. I remember stopping at the last town I passed to make a call, and once I was done I put the phone down toward the bottom of this pocket here." He indicated one of the zippered pouches, "There's no way it could have worked itself out."

"That's true, I watched him stuff it in right after his call. He zipped it up and hasn't touched it since," Vinny added.

William turned toward him, his complexion wan, "And how long were you following me exactly?"

"That's not important right now!" Vinny exclaimed, suddenly eager to change the subject, and more interested in their dire predicament than he had ever expressed before. "The important thing is we're trapped, and we've got to find some way out of this castle!"

"There is no way out."

Their small party turned toward the gloomy voice emanating from the top of the stairs. Dracula appeared, sauntering down the dark stairway with his shoulders slumped and an expression of utter misery. He sulked past them all without as much as a sideways glance, taking refuge once again in his den. He paused briefly in the doorway, just long enough to spot the skull William had placed on a table. "Ah, there you are," he said with something akin to fondness, and taking up the skull, retreated to his chair by the dying fire.

Frankenstein noted with some perturbation the way Dracula sat with the skull cradled in one hand as he patted it with the other, seemingly deep in thought. Ignoring these clear signs of insanity in what could already be considered a very dangerous man, Frankenstein followed him into the room.

Jekyll was not long in following, his agitation mounting by the second. Apparently, he had not enjoyed enough wine to sufficiently depress his spirits. "So we're really stuck here then?"

Dracula took his time before answering. He gave the skull several more pats and stared at the glowing embers of his fire. Muttering a few incoherent sentences to himself, he suddenly pronounced, in a steady, loud voice, "Yes, stuck. That's exactly the word for it. I have searched every door, window, and secret passage that this castle holds, and could find no exit anywhere. It's as if every door is stuck, every window casement welded shut. And I, for all my strength, cannot even manage to break glass. For all my powers, not even as mist can I slip under the doors."

"But how can any of that even be possible?" asked Jekyll.

"Why don't you ask him?" Dracula recommended with the sort of carelessness one only acquires after accepting the hopelessness of a situation. He gestured toward Frankenstein, "He is the one who suggested we would all be stuck here in the first place."

Frankenstein watched the others turn toward him with growing suspicion, and he suddenly felt the full extent of the dangerous position he was now in. Luckily, Beth intervened for him before Frankenstein was obliged to say a word.

"What are you implying?" she demanded, stepping between Frankenstein and the others. Her words were for everyone, but she addressed herself pointedly toward Vlad with a kind of fearlessness even Frankenstein found surprising. "Do you honestly think Victor is behind this? Nonsense! I've been with him all this time! I saw the look on his face when he received his invitation to come here! And if you could have seen him then, seen his look of surprise and fear, then you would not be making such groundless accusations!"

Frankenstein rested his hand on Beth's arm to quiet her, though he was grateful to her for coming to his defense.

"Beth is telling you the truth," he said, "though I deny ever being fearful, there was certainly a great deal of surprise on my part, and more than a little curiosity when I received my letter. What I told you all before of my circumstances is as true now as it was then."

"But you were the first to say we'd be stuck here," said William, "And that was just before Jekyll found out the door was locked."

"I was only suggesting a possible outcome of our being summoned here! I didn't actually know we'd be trapped!

"I suppose if someone took the trouble to seek us all out and bring us together, they wouldn't be in a hurry to let us all go again," Jekyll reflected.

"Yes! That's what I've been trying to say all along!"

"So, what? We just wait around until this Y person decides to let us in on the joke? We're trapped here until he shows himself?"

"No, I have a better idea!" Dracula suddenly exclaimed, "I'll just kill all of you!"

The rest stared at him in stunned silence, hoping he wasn't serious, but realizing that if he was the man he claimed to be, such an outcome wasn't as unlikely as it sounded.

"After all, it's my castle. I have no reason to leave. Let Y trap me here if he pleases. It will be a simple matter to kill you all one by one, and I shall have peace and tranquility once again."

Frankenstein, thinking quickly, was the first to speak up, "Very true. That would certainly clear up your problems with us unwanted guests."

Jekyll gaped at Frankenstein, obviously thinking he'd gone crazy. Frankenstein ignored him, and continued to press his case, even daring to take a few steps closer to the vampire.

"But consider… What would happen to you after we were all dead, and you continued to be trapped in your own house?"

"What does that matter? It's my house. As long as I'm alone I will be comfortable."

"Yes, but for how long? You'll have to leave at some point, if only to, well…Have a drink. But say you kill us and Y never reveals himself. Say he keeps the place locked up. Then you'd be stuck here forever with only the dead to keep you company. I mean, we've established that Y brought us together for some purpose, though it is unknown to us. Your murdering all of us would disrupt his plans. He'd be pretty angry about that, I imagine, and you would be his prisoner indefinitely."

Dracula didn't seem to like that idea at all, which was precisely what Frankenstein had intended. His ploy might be obvious to the vampire, but that didn't make his argument any less valid. There was no use in risking their unidentified host's displeasure without knowing the consequences.

"Very well, but there's no guarantee he will ever release us, even if I keep you all alive. So how am I to benefit from not killing you?"

"I'm so glad you asked! Consider our qualifications. Jekyll and I are both men of science, and if Vinny's condition is anything to go by, I'd say you can count on his knowledge as well. With our combined efforts, I'm sure we can find a solution to our predicament. If we can find a way out of this trap together, then we can all be back to our homes, as we would like, and you can have your castle all to yourself again, free to come and go as you choose."

Dracula did not look entirely convinced, but with a surge of relief, Frankenstein watched him nod his head in acquiescence.

"Fine. I will not kill anyone… For the moment. But it seems to me that you will not all be necessary, nor be equally of use," he spared a glance in William's direction, "I reserve the right to kill any of you at a later point as I see fit."

Happy to have secured his own safety for the moment, Frankenstein simply smiled and nodded his own head vigorously. "Quite right, quite right. And so you should. Very much your privilege as the owner, isn't it? Couldn't stop you anyway, I imagine, if you were in a mind to murder. Very good of you to postpone… But well, perhaps we'd better get started?"

"Get started with what?" William asked with a tone of incredulity.

"Finding our way out of this mess of course! Best not to wait if we're depending on Dracula's good will! Let's start with what we know about Y."

"Nothing," Jekyll said immediately. "We know absolutely nothing."

"That's not true!" Frankenstein insisted, "Think for a moment. We know that it's someone who knows all of us."

"Every movie buff in the world knows who we are," Jekyll argued, "Every literate person in the free world must know our names."

"Yes, but we're not just looking for a fan of horror movies. We're looking for someone who knows enough to about us to know that we are not works of fiction."

"But who in this day and age would actually believe in vampires, werewolves, and invisible men?" William asked.

They were silent in thought for a moment, when Dracula suddenly surprised them all by bursting out laughing.

"He would have to be a mad man," the vampire said with a smile.


	4. A Family History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Vinny tells of his grandfather's legacy.

"A mad man…" Dracula repeated, his boisterous laughter fading away to a few chuckles.

William didn't find his amusement very comforting. In fact, his mirth had rather the opposite effect on the whole company, originating as it did from a character so demonstratively antisocial. Everyone looked on in stunned silence, expecting the worst from this sudden change in attitude.

"I fail to see what's so funny," Frankenstein said, "How about letting us in on the joke?"

"It's funny because you are asking us to explain the motives of a crazy person," Dracula replied, a sardonic smile twisting one side of his mouth. "Anyone who truly believes in monsters like us must be insane. And this is the person we depend upon for our release!"

"And that's funny to you?"

"What else can I do but laugh? I can no more explain to you the workings of an insane mind than I can Vinny's ability to render himself invisible."

At the mention of his name, Vinny ventured to add his own opinion, stating matter-of-factly, "It's not as crazy as you think. I mean, I came here expecting to meet Dracula, and I wasn't wrong, was I?"

"You're expecting me to look to you as a model of sanity?" Dracula said with derision, echoing William's own thoughts. He didn't feel particularly convinced by Vinny's argument.

After a pause, Frankenstein cautiously spoke. "Not to agree with Vinny..."

"Hey, thanks for your support man," Vinny muttered.

Frankenstein continued as if he hadn't heard him, "But consider the situation. It's true that our stories are marketed as fiction, but aren't we all here in fact? Is it really insane to believe if it's all true?"

"It sounds to me like you do agree with Vinny," William said, earning an affectionate pat on the shoulder from the invisible man.

"I differ in one important point. It wouldn't be crazy to believe in any of this if one had evidence that we exist. If Y can prove that we exist, the he doesn't believe in us. He knows us."

"Semantics," argued Jekyll with a word. But Frankenstein was insistent.

"No, it's more than that. This narrows the scope of suspects considerably. Y had to have known that we were all real living people. What's more, he knew where to find us. We're not just looking for a literature fanatic. We're looking for someone who knows us all personally."

"Everyone I have ever known personally is dead." Dracula said, tapping the human skull he still kept balanced on his knee emphatically.

"Oh please," Jekyll input suddenly, clearly not intimidated by whatever implication the vampire was trying to make, "The same could be said for me. The last person to associate me with the name of Henry Jekyll died in eighteen ninety-four. I've was living under an alias long before that. I imagine your case is not much different, Frankenstein."

Frankenstein frowned, but he nodded his head in agreement to what Jekyll said. "True… My own connection to the past died with Robert Walton. I lived alongside him for several years under an assumed name. He continued to share my story, which I had told to him. But he always spoke to others as if it had happened to someone who had died. Eventually people just chalked it up to another sailor fable. He would never have told anyone who I really was, especially after the book was published. But it still isn't inconceivable that a connection exists between all of us."

"They would have to be immortal then," Jekyll said, adding a snort of incredulity.

"Well, it's not impossible is it? After all, I'm immortal, or as close as any living man can be. And look at Dracula. How many centuries have you been undead?"

William thought this was a little insensitive, but Dracula didn't seem at all offended when he answered promptly, "About five centuries. Give or take a few decades."

Jekyll was massaging his temples, his eyes shut tight. "So you're suggesting that there's another immortal man out there, meeting all of us individually and holding on to that information for countless years before deciding to throw us all together for no apparent reason? It doesn't seem possible."

"Alright, maybe not one person. Maybe 'Y' stands for some paranormal research organization. Or maybe it is one person who has found connections to us from various sources. I don't know! I just now that there has to be a connection otherwise we wouldn't all be gathered here!"

Tensions were already running high, and now exhaustion was pushing everyone to their limit. William was a ball of anxiety and jagged nerves. He had sat silently through most of the conversation, keeping to one side of the couch he shared with Vinny and trying not to stare at him too often. But he was finally reaching a sort of breaking point, and felt it would be better to speak up for fear of screaming in frustration.

"Well what about me?" he asked bluntly. "I've only been like this for two months, and you're the first people I've told about it."

"Two months?" Frankenstein said, turning to observe William with a penetrating glance.

He could feel his face turning red under the scrutiny, though he wasn't sure why Frankenstein was making him feel self-conscious. "Right. I got bit about three months ago by what I thought was… Well, not a wolf. More like a bear… About a month after that I changed."

"But surely someone knows about that incident." Frankenstein insisted, "Your family…?"

William shook his head sadly, "They're back in the States. I haven't told them anything."

"Wait," Vinny said, speaking up suddenly and surprising the others. Although still clothed, it was easy to forget he was present when he wasn't chattering. "You thought you were attacked by a bear and somehow walked away without being mauled to death and you didn't tell anybody?"

"Well, I wasn't mauled. I had some friends with me and they scared it off. The bite was superficial, and we were worried about going to a foreign hospital."

"Then these friends of yours must know that you're a werewolf?"

He shook his head again, "No… Well, they might have known something was wrong, but they weren't around the first time I changed… I… I knew I couldn't tell anyone. They'd never believe me anyway. So I told them I wanted to continue my vacation a little longer. They went back home. I stayed behind… I don't know what they think of me now, but there's no way they think I'm a werewolf."

William was startled to feel a warm pressure on his shoulder. Jekyll had rested one of his hands there, which was strangely comforting. But he didn't say a word to William. Instead, he looked across the sofa to the floating clothes that represented Vinny.

"Well, what about you?"

"Me? Hey, don't look at me!"

"We can't. That's sort of the point. Who knew you before you were invisible?"

"Hold your horses, now. Who said I wasn't born this way?"

Frankenstein looked startled, "You were born invisible?"

"Nah, just kidding. I made myself like this with science."

Frankenstein and Jekyll exchanged dubious glances before asking "Science?" in unison.

"Damn straight! And I did a great job of it if I do say so myself. My grandfather would be proud."

"Your grandfather? Then does he know about your condition?"

"I doubt it. He's dead."

"Well what about your parents?"

"They disowned me when I dropped out of university."

"You dropped out?"

"Well, yeah. On account of I was invisible. They never counted me in attendance."

Frankenstein finally threw his hands up in defeat, "So there's no one who could attest to the existence of an invisible man?"

"Well…I had this grandfather, you see…"

"The one who died?"

"No… Well, yes he is dead. But not him, the other one."

Dracula bared his fangs at Vinny and something like a low growl escaped from between his teeth. "You better start making some sense. My patience is wearing thin."

"OK! OK! Let me start over. I had a great great great grandfather. Sort of the patriarch of our family. Legend has it that all of our money originally came from him, but that he started life as a common beggar. No one really knew how he got so much wealth. He wasn't a very clever guy anyway. But he left everything he had to his sons, and the money just kind of grew over the years."

"So… You're saying you're rich?" William asked.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Dracula spat.

"Hey, I said I was disowned, didn't I? Mom and Dad stopped footing the bills once I stopped going to college. But I was never interested in my great granddad's money. He left another legacy behind that I always found far more interesting. A book."

"A book?" Everyone echoed, their words the same but conveying very different emotions. Frankenstein sounded excited, while Dracula looked as if he wanted to hit someone. William just repeated the words in confusion. "What could be so interesting about a book?"

"Well, a collection of notebooks really. No one else wanted them because they didn't make any sense. They were covered in drawings and mathematical figures and strange scribbles. But still, they were great grandfather's prized possession, and so they got passed down along with the fortune. Of course, I loved the books the second I got my hands on them. I was the only one who saw those strange symbols for what they were."

"A code," Frankenstein said with excitement, clearly wrapped up in Vinny's story.

"Well go ahead and steal my thunder!" Vinny cried petulantly, grabbing one of the pillows on the sofa and chucking it at Frankenstein's head, "Why don't you go ahead and tell the story since you know so much!"

"Sorry! But… What else could it have been? I always used a code to disguise my notes while I created… Well, when I was researching."

"Same here," Jekyll said, cutting in and knocking aside another pillow aimed at Frankenstein. "But what did the code reveal to you Vinny?"

"I spent almost all of my free time trying to crack it, but even when I had it figured out, I saw that the research was incomplete. I had to continue the study on my own, and eventually my work paid off. The notebooks were a theoretical study on how light affects matter. Or maybe it's the other way around? Basically, if you can alter the chemistry of the body's cells in just the right way, you can manipulate how those cells respond to light. You could even render a person invisible."

"So you're rich and a genius," William summarized.

"Well, you obviously succeeded," Dracula interposed, seemingly unsure of whether he was more bored or angry, "But what does that have to do with the situation here?"

He swept his hand to indicate the group of unlikely roommates. William exchanged a nervous glance with Jekyll, who smiled encouragingly before looking back to Vinny. He too was becoming engrossed in the tale, eager to see what would come of it, but William only felt uneasy. It was an obvious fact that Vinny found a way to become invisible, but how far could he be trusted? William had no idea if his story about the mysterious notebooks was even true.

He pushed his suspicions aside, deciding not to care. After all, Vinny's story had nothing to do with his werewolf problem. And if Vinny wanted to tell the rest of the tale, there would be no stopping him, anyway.

While William pondered over the possible implications of his story, Vinny had gone silent. Dracula's challenge hung in the air between them, but it was impossible to know how he would respond without seeing his expression. Finally, William noticed the fabric of the shirt expand slowly, then retract again. Vinny heaved a quiet sigh and said, "My great grandfather's name was Thomas Marvel."

Silence.

William glanced cautiously at the faces of the others, wondering if the name had any significance to them, but they all wore the same blank expressions as his own.

Vinny threw his arms into the air, "Wow. Really? Nothing? Not one of you has even read the story have you?"

Frankenstein offered a small, apologetic smile, "I'm sorry… But what story are you speaking of?"

"The Invisible Man. H.G. Wells. Published eighteen ninety-seven."

Jekyll frowned, "But the invisible man in that story wasn't named Thomas Marvel."

"No. His name was Griffin. His assistant's name was Thomas Marvel."

"His assistant!"

"Well, more like his servant. The invisible man would rob people, and Thomas, my grandfather, had the responsibility of carrying away the loot. Griffin was eventually killed, and the whole incident gradually forgotten except by a certain science fiction writer.

"It's all there in the story. You can read it for yourself. How Thomas Marvel escaped with a stolen fortune, and how he kept the notebooks with all of Griffin's research. He was too much of a simpleton to ever make them out for himself. But he left them behind so that one day someone else could read them and figure out the secret of invisibility.

"Frankenstein… You wanted to know if anybody knew about my invisibility. Well, the truth is anyone who's ever read that story could have figured it out. You can trace Thomas Marvel's family line down through each generation, and then you would find me."

"Which still doesn't get us any closer to discovering who or what Y is." Dracula grumbled. "All you've managed to do is narrow our suspect list down to anyone who has read The Invisible Man and has access to the internet!"

Vinny stood up slowly from the sofa. With a few steps he closed the distance between himself and where the vampire reclined in his armchair. He stood over the vampire, his arms at his sides. It was impossible to read his emotions from his body language. The sight of the body, without head, hands, or feet, was truly something to inspire awe. William was suddenly struck again by how creepy it was to know Vinny was there and yet not to see him.

He looked at Dracula's face, curious to see his reaction. The vampire was scowling at the space just above the collar of Vinny's shirt. He didn't seem intimidated, but the unsettling sight must have affected him somewhat. He was frozen in place, glaring at Vinny but not saying a word.

Vinny's chest rose and fell in another silent sigh. "You thought I was crazy for coming all the way out here with the belief that I would meet Dracula. But I read my grandfather's story; I held those books in my hands. I became invisible, and I knew it was all true. So I thought, why shouldn't the rest be true as well? Why shouldn't creatures like vampires exist? I exist, and that's amazing enough. So I came. I came on the chance that I would meet Dracula, and I did. And on the way, I met a werewolf. And look, here's Dr. Frankenstein. And there's Jekyll. It's all real, and it's not crazy.

"You want to know who Y is? It's not someone who's just read the stories. It's someone who's lived a story. That's why they know who we all are, and that we exist. They're just like me."

Vinny backed away from Dracula then, much more subdued after all of his talking. He returned to the sofa, plopping down on the cushion next to William.

William mulled his words over in his mind. From their silence, the others were clearly doing the same. But it was William who first let out as gasp as an alarming notion occurred to him. If everything Vinny said was true, then the odds of Y being one of them became nearly a certainty.

Jekyll once again rested his hand on William's shoulder. He caught William's eye and slowly shook his head from side to side, silencing him before William could say a word.

"Jekyll must be thinking the same thing,"William thought, "but why doesn't he want me to tell the others?"

As his suspicions grew, William noticed that Dracula was standing slowly from his chair. He placed his pet skull carefully on the mantle of the fireplace, and spoke quietly to the others with his back turned.

"It will be dawn soon."

William glanced out one of the small, narrow windows. There was still only blackness outside. Faintly, one could still hear raindrops from the storm pattering on the glass panes.

"How can you tell?" Frankenstein asked, sharing the same observations as the werewolf.

"I can feel it," he said simply, then abruptly turned and crossed the room in the blink of an eye. He paused in the doorway, giving his unwanted guests a parting glare.

"I expect all of you to have this mess cleared up by next nightfall. If you're not gone by the time I awake, one of you is going to die."

His gaze flicked between Beth and William, as if weighing his options. Beth returned his gaze steadily, but William looked away. Was he serious? And why was Dracula looking at him?!

The vampire was gone in the next instant, leaving the others to brood over his words.

Frankenstein was the first to regroup, straightening his shoulders and smiling at William. "Not to worry!" he said briskly, "He's not really going to hurt anyone!"

"... Why are you telling me that?"

"Well… I wasn't. I was addressing everyone. We don't have anything to fear so long as we're trapped here."

"Dude, do you even listen to yourself?" Vinny asked, his usual lightness creeping back into his tone.

"Seems to me we have a dangerous vampire to fear, coupled with the fact that we're stuck here with him," Jekyll drawled.

"Well, we certainly have every reason to suspect Y's intentions, so I'm not saying we shouldn't be cautious. But as far as Dracula goes, I'm sure he realizes that he needs all of us to get out of here."

"Does he though?" Vinny asked.

Frankenstein glared at him, picked up one of the pillows from the floor, and hurled it back at Vinny. "Well, let's just let him believe that for now, shall we? At any rate, we're not going to get anywhere like this. What say we follow Vlad's example and get some rest?"

"But… Didn't he say we need to get this figured out?"

"Come on William," Jekyll said with a heavy sigh, "Aren't you tired? We've been awake all night."

It was true, he was exhausted. Not only had he stayed awake with the others, but he'd had to hike all the way up the mountain today. Dealing with the storm was wearying enough. And now that he mentioned it, he couldn't remember the last time he'd had a good night's sleep.

These thoughts culminated in a large yawn. He stood up slowly from the couch, feeling the soreness in his muscles for the first time, and followed the others up the stairs to the second story.

No one was sure where Dracula had disappeared to, so they opened the first two doors cautiously, afraid to disturb him. The first room was well furnished with a large, four-poster bed draped with heavy blue curtains. The room was dusty and held a few cobwebs, but otherwise it was clean and comfortable. Beth waltzed into the room right away, demonstrating that there was no question in her mind as to whom this room belonged. She opened another door within the chamber to inspect a small, modern bathroom connected to the room. She turned and saw Frankenstein still standing in the hall with the others.

"Victor? Aren't you coming in? I can run a bath for you if you'd like, or would you rather just go to bed?"

Frankenstein smile sheepishly at the others, "Sorry, but…"

"Don't be ridiculous," Jekyll scoffed. "There's plenty of rooms here. You and Beth can have this one, we'll find our own."

He motioned to the door across the hall. It was already open, revealing a dark interior. The furnishings were sparse. A low, narrow bed sat pushed against the wall on one side, while an antique wooden desk and chair rested below one of the castle's narrow windows.

Frankenstein smiled again and bowed deeply to Jekyll before shutting the door and retiring with his wife. William was surprised at the antiquated style of the gesture, before realizing that such behavior was probably commonplace for both Frankenstein and Jekyll. He suddenly felt very childish.

Jekyll inspected the second room more minutely. He looked at the narrow bed and glanced at William, "I'll take this room, if you don't mind."

"Well… No that's fine. But isn't it kind of… dark?"

"That suits me just fine. Besides, I'm used to Hyde showing up unexpectedly. He can't get into too much mischief in a room like this."

Jekyll hadn't spoken much of the alternate personality for which he was famous. William was curious to learn more about Hyde, but now wasn't the time to ask questions. He bid Jekyll good night, and continued down the hall on his own.

The room he settled on wasn't much different than Jekyll's. It had the benefit of an old wardrobe, a washbasin, a mirror, and a bookshelf, but the dark atmosphere and small, uncomfortable bed were the same. Still, the other rooms hadn't been much better. Frankenstein and Beth had the only decent bedroom in the place.

Thinking that, William briefly wondered where Dracula was sleeping. But thinking about the vampire sleeping the day away in a coffin somewhere nearby was too creepy to consider for long, and William flopped on the bed with a heavy thud. He rolled onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillow. But it was old and had the sour stink of mildew. Disgusted, William tossed it on the ground and flipped onto his back.

He stared at the ceiling, feeling exhausted both mentally and physically, but still unable to sleep. His mind was racing over everything that had happened. He thought about everything Vinny had told them about his past. He thought about Frankenstein and Jekyll and how they were all tricked into being here. He thought about his home, his family, and his friends. What did they think had happened to him?

Y's letter promised that he would be able to find help. He hadn't really believed it at the time, but it was still something to hope for. Now that hope was gone. Nobody here knew how to help him. It was all a lie to drag him here and imprison him with the others.

William's chest felt tight. His eyes started to sting and his breath was coming out in gasps. He let out a choked sob, then rolled to his side and buried his face in his hands. He was furious with himself for crying like a baby, but he was mostly angry at Y for his deceit. He tried to stifle his sobs, but as his anger increased so did his tears.

"Um… Are you going to be doing this for a while? Because I can leave."

William stopped crying immediately and pushed himself off the bed. His face felt hot and he could feel the cool tears on his cheeks. He didn't bother to brush them away. He just glared at the dark, empty room, his anger ready to boil over.

"Vinny… What the fuck do you want?"

"Hey, there. Easy, tiger. I was here first, you know. You're the one who followed me in and started making with the waterworks."

"Well, why didn't you say anything when I came in?!"

"You didn't really look like you were in the mood for conversation."

"You were spying on me!"

"Wow. Paranoid, much?"

"Get out!" William grabbed the smelly pillow off the floor and hurled it in the direction of Vinny's voice. He had the satisfaction of seeing it strike against something before falling back to the floor, and knew he'd met his mark.

"Now wait a minute! Do you… Do you want to talk about anything?"

"I said get out of here!"

"OK, OK! I'm leaving! See?"

The pillow rose from the floor and floated across the room to the doorway. The door started to swing itself shut when William called out suddenly.

"Vinny? Where the hell are your clothes?"

"I sleep in the nude."

"... Of course you do."

"... Nighty night, Wolf Boy."

William didn't respond. He fell back onto the bed and turned his face to the wall. He heard the door behind him close with a click. Only then did he mutter, "Good night."

He was too exhausted now. Fighting with Vinny had drained all the rest of the energy out of him. His eyelids felt heavy. A few fleeting thoughts passed through his mind. Vampires… Invisible men…Finally the letter Y seemed to swim before his eyes, but that couldn't be right. His eyes were closed. Puzzling over what all of this meant, William fell into a fitful sleep.


	5. Hide and Seek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which breakfast is served, and secret passages are revealed.

Frankenstein turned his face away from the shaft of sunlight piercing through the thin protection of his eyelids. He rolled over sluggishly, throwing an arm over the space in the bed next to him. It fell with a thud on cool sheets. Frankenstein lifted his head barely an inch above the down-feather pillow, squinting at the empty space next to him. Beth was out of bed already. He sighed and allowed his head to fall back down, listening to the slight sounds Beth made as she moved quietly about the room. There were very few things Beth did that irritated Frankenstein, and getting out of bed early in the morning was one of them. But try as he might, it was a habit of hers he was unable to break. He would prefer that she stay in bed with him occasionally, enjoying the morning wrapped in each other's arms. But Beth simply didn't operate that way.

He shifted to glance at her lithe form over his shoulder, wincing a little at the light creeping though the window. She moved quickly, though quietly around their room, adjusting the clothes he had carelessly tossed to the floor the proceeding night, stopping to rearrange her hair in the mirror, and performing other seemingly inane tasks to keep herself busy. She had put her evening dress back on. He started to feel terrible again just looking at it, the memories of last night flooding back to him. He should never have brought them there. He should have burnt the invitation the moment he saw it addressed to his real name. But curiosity had always been his biggest fault. He would have come no matter what the cost, just to see who had found him out at last. And yet he still felt like he had failed Beth somehow. She at least could have been spared this predicament, but of course she never would have heard of being left behind.

Frankenstein smiled as he remembered Beth's reaction when he told her of his trip. He hadn't even told her where he was going or why, just that he had received a letter, and would have to leave the following morning. She didn't say a word, just promptly began packing two bags. Bags which were now many miles down the mountainside, sitting in the small inn where they'd left them.

"What time is it?" he finally whispered. He didn't like to disturb the early morning hush.

"Almost eleven," Beth replied, not surprised to see that he was awake.

"Eleven?!" Frankenstein repeated, much louder than before. The time for early morning hushes was clearly long past, "Did I really sleep that long?"

"It was a long night, dearest," Beth said consolingly. She came to the bedside and caressed his cheek with a cold hand. "I've done what I can for your clothes, but I'm afraid they're quite wrinkled. Are you ready to get dressed?"

"I'd rather you just come back to bed with me," he growled playfully, tugging on the hand that caressed him.

Beth laughed and offered a light struggle against him, but they both stopped at the sound of a loud groan emanating from the sound of Frankenstein's stomach.

Frankenstein looked down, hardly believing such a sound belonged to him, but Beth laughed again.

"Hungry?"

"Starving, from the sounds of things."

He thought immediately of the kitchen downstairs, empty, forgotten, and covered in dust. He didn't suppose there would be anything to eat down there. Still, their host didn't intend to starve them all, did he? Perhaps there was something they missed.

As if reading his mind, Beth had already moved toward the door, saying "I'll see what I can do. Won't you get dressed, Victor? I've brought up some water for you to wash your face."

Frankenstein buried his face in the pillow and wailed, muffling the sound against the down. "I don't want to get up! I don't want to talk with those men! I want to wake up from this bad dream!"

His stomach wailed along with its own protests, causing Beth to laugh again at them both.

"Stay there as long as you like, then. But I won't be bringing breakfast up to you!"

He listened to the sound of the door closing and her footsteps receding down the hall. She had disappeared down the stairs before he reluctantly began to move out of bed. Naked, he stood in the late-morning light of day and stretched. But being nude made him suddenly recall the invisible man, and he didn't like to think about that much. He quickly began to dress, pulling on wrinkled dress pants and shirt alike. He ignored the dinner vest, jacket, and tie, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to the elbows and leaving the top buttons undone. He felt somewhat comfortable, although he really wished he had brought a change of clothes.

The possibly of asking the vampire to loan him some was quickly rejected. Dracula's patience had been tried enough, and he hadn't been lying when he said he didn't want to speak with the rest of the men. Last night's debacle had drained him. He didn't know how to face the others. It was obvious that they didn't trust him, and he wasn't sure how far he could trust all of them. The truth was, he was terrified about what the next few hours would bring. But at the same time, some part of him was irresistibly excited about this turn of events. He wouldn't have to hide behind some false identity with these people. He could be himself, talk about his experiments, share his ideas, and most importantly, learn more about the strange creatures that were his new roommates.

From a scientific standpoint, it was all very exciting. The opportunity of a lifetime. Perhaps the invitation he had received hadn't been a complete lie after all. But still, he couldn't shake the ominous feeling he had first felt as they drove down the dark lane to the castle door. A faint but constant feeling of dread continued to hang over him. He paced around the room, trying to shake the thought from his mind. Of course he felt this way. They were prisoners, weren't they? He had every right to feel frightened in this situation.

He finally stopped pacing when he heard Beth's familiar tread approach the door. He stopped by the window, gazing through the diamond latticed panes, pretending to enjoy the view.

"Victor?" Beth said timidly. After all these years together, she was still shy about entering a room without knocking first.

"Yes, my dear. I am up. I am dressed. Just as you ordered."

"You know I never order you."

The words were meant to be playful, but they fell flat from her lips. The emotion wasn't there.

"Something wrong, Beth?"

She offered him a smile. It was a poor attempt at levity. She seemed confused more than anything when she said, "Breakfast is downstairs."

"You managed to prepare something then?"

"No… It seems it was there this morning."

"I don't understand."

"Vinny is downstairs with William now. Perhaps you had better talk to them about it."

This was exactly what Frankenstein wanted to avoid at the moment, but his stomach let loose another angry growl that could not be ignored. If there was a meal to be had, he needed to go and find it.

Taking Beth's hand in one of his own, he led the way down the hall to the first floor. Breakfast smelled wonderful. He expected to follow the delectable aroma to the kitchens, but was drawn instead into one of the spacious and clearly unused dining rooms.

The table was arranged with plates of various meats, breads, and fruits. Vinny sat at the head of the table, helping himself to the modest feast in front of him. Victor watched as he quickly devoured a pile of flaky croissants, smearing them with a large helping of jam before shoving them whole into his mouth.

It was a disturbing sight. Vinny's invisibility made it very easy to observe the mastication of his food before it disappeared down the collar of his shirt. Despite the oddness of the sight – or perhaps because of it – Frankenstein found himself fascinated. He could see in detail how the bread crumbled into bits, soaked by Vinny's saliva, although curiously, the saliva itself remained as invisible as the rest of Vinny. He would have loved to make a study of this man, and had half a mind to ask him to pull up his shirt to allow Frankenstein to mark the progress of his food through his digestive system. But now was not the time to satisfy his curiosity.

William sat to the right of Vinny; his chin resting on his hand. It looked as if he hadn't touched anything. Perhaps the somewhat nauseating sight Vinny's eating had put off his appetite, though his expression wasn't one of disgust.

"What's the matter, William? I expected a boy of your size to have finished off six sausage links plus enough bacon to feed a family of four by now. Not feeling ill, I hope?" Frankenstein asked jovially. He had promptly switched to a more light-hearted demeanor as soon as he saw them both. He thought it best to keep up the appearance of calm unconcern.

"I'm waiting to see if Vinny keels over."

"I beg your pardon?"

Vinny swallowed his mouthful of croissant with difficulty. After a few gasps, he said, "Will here thinks that just because this food was left here sometime after we all went to bed, that it's probably been poisoned. I'm out to prove him wrong by eating all of it in front of him."

"He's been at it for a while. He started with the muffins. I'm thinking if he's not dead or dying in the next ten minutes, I'm going to eat those first."

"Hold on, back up a minute. Did you say this food just appeared here over night?"

"Yeah. That's what I'm saying. It's suspicious."

"It isn't suspicious! It's breakfast! Obviously the person who went to all the trouble to get us all out here doesn't want us to die of starvation!"

"I agree with you," Frankenstein said, "But how did it get here, Vinny? Who brought it?"

"Angels?"

"Do try to be more serious."

"What? You don't believe in angels?"

"Has it been ten minutes yet? I'm starting to think I'd risk dying just to try one of those fried doughnut thingies."

Vinny grabbed one of the beignets and popped it into his mouth with relish, "Snooze ya loose, crybaby."

William punched him in the shoulder. Vinny retaliated by leveling an apple at William's head. The werewolf ducked, missing the apple by only a few centimeters, and quickly reached for something to throw back at Vinny. Frankenstein stepped between them both, holding his hands in front of them to get their attention.

"Both of you stop acting like children and think for a moment about the implications of what you're saying! None of this food was here last night. We know because we searched the kitchen and all we found was one dirty wine bottle. Now it's true that someone brought this here and left it. That means someone has been able to come and go."

"We already tried the door again." William said, "Still no access to the outside."

"Have you tried them all?"

"We were sort of waiting to see what everyone else had to say."

Frankenstein responded to a light tug at his elbow and glanced down to see Beth peering up at him.

"Should I go see if Dr. Jekyll is awake?" she asked kindly.

Jekyll's input could certainly be useful, and Victor was beginning to long for the presence of the older man. He felt out of his depth with the younger generation, and did not much appreciate the look the werewolf kept directing his way. It was clear the boy was still wary of the others, and Frankenstein in particular he seemed to view with suspicion. Though perhaps, given the circumstances, Frankenstein was just being sensitive.

Beth left on her errand and soon returned with Jekyll in tow. He looked tired. Perhaps more exhausted still than any of them. Frankenstein wondered briefly if he'd had any sleep at all. His hair was disheveled and there were dark circles under his eyes, but he bore himself with quiet dignity as he approached the breakfast spread and quickly grabbed a pastry. Before Frankenstein could move to stop him, he'd bit down.

"Wait!" William called too late. Jekyll only chewed the hunk of pastry for a moment before swallowing it.

"Jekyll, it could be poisoned," Frankenstein said, trying not to sound alarmed.

Jekyll took another bite of his breakfast and chewed it more slowly this time, looking thoughtful. He swallowed and asked, "Why?"

"That's exactly what I was thinking. If anyone had the resources and motive to attempt to poison us, Y would be my first guess."

"No, I don't mean our host, Mr. Y. I mean, why would anyone try to poison our food? You said it yourself last night, didn't you, Frankenstein? There would be no point in dragging all of us out here and keeping us hostage just to poison us the next day. Besides, poison is too mundane. He'll have thought of a more creative way to kill us."

"You don't actually think Y is going to kill us, do you?" William asked. "I mean, he'll let us go once he has whatever it is he wants, right?"

"I don't have any idea. That would depend on what he wants, and what he's prepared to do to get it. But without knowing that, or even who he is, I can't even hazard a guess. What I do know is that I'm hungry, and this food looks delicious."

William smiled slightly, and pulled a plate of sausage toward him, digging in with gusto. Jekyll smiled in the boy's direction before swallowing another mouthful of pastry.

"Coffee?" he grunted.

"There doesn't seem to be any," Frankenstein said, glancing over the table.

"All this food and no coffee? Our host is highly negligent."

Beth offered to try the kitchen again and was soon breezing through the door before Frankenstein could utter a word. If he didn't know her better, he would say she was acting restless. Perhaps she was feeling guilty for not being of more help to the men. It was in her nature to do what she could to make others more comfortable.

Knowing that Beth was happiest when she had something to do, Frankenstein put her from his mind. There no longer seemed any reason to hold out any longer, and he quietly joined the others at the table for their breakfast.

For several minutes, they ate in silence. Well, most of them did. Vinny seemed uncomfortable with any pause in conversation, and did his best to entertain them all with stories of his legendary great-grandfather Thomas. When those failed to impress, he tried telling his own adventures. Frankenstein disregarded them all as complete works of fiction, but at least it passed the time.

"You know, I never did find my phone," William said once Vinny had finally taken a pause to breathe. "I turned my bag inside out this morning to see if I somehow misplaced it. It's completely gone."

"So you're saying someone took it?" Jekyll asked.

"It's the only thing I can think of. But I've been thinking… Maybe it's not one of you."

"Oh, I'm so glad you have such confidence in us," was Vinny's quick remark.

"Don't take it personally, but I thought one of you could have easily taken it. But when I saw breakfast laid out like it is… Do you think it's possible that someone else has been sneaking in?"

After a pause, Jekyll rose from his seat. He exchanged a look with Frankenstein, who rose as well. "It is possible. I think you'll agree with me, Frankenstein? But if someone has been coming and going, then there must be an entrance we've missed somewhere."

"You're suggesting we do another search."

"Unless you have a better idea?"

"Not at all. Lead the way."

William and Vinny both grabbed one last snack before following the other two out the door. They tried all the doors they'd found the night before, and even opened a few more on the second story. All they found were dark rooms, a few broom closets, and the occasional locked door. Most of the doors that barred their passage faced the west wing, which Frankenstein remembered lying in ruin from the fleeting glance he'd had of the property the night before. They were the most likely routes for someone to sneak in, but none of their party could make the doors budge from the inside.

Beth soon joined them during the search, her efforts to come up with some coffee or tea in vain. She was happy to report that there was functional plumbing, and served the men cool water from freshly cleaned wine glasses.

"Vlad's, do you think?" Vinny asked. He held the wine glass up for inspection, "What does he use them for, I wonder? Surely his beverage of choice tastes better directly from the tap."

"Perhaps Y left them here like breakfast," William suggested.

"That would imply that anyone was able to get into the building in the first place," Jekyll said. He was busy trying to pry loose the door hinges to force a way out of the building, but he wasn't getting very far without tools. "But as it's impossible to leave, I'm saying that's not bloody likely."

"Not necessarily," Frankenstein said, and idea occurring to him. "Perhaps it is possible for someone to enter. But maybe that person never left."

William turned pale. "You're saying that there could be someone else here now? Hiding somewhere?"

Jekyll gave up on his futile task with a frustrated sigh. "Well, it isn't like I'm getting anywhere with this. We might as well expand our search. I guess it's time to make sure we're the only one's here, eh?"

"Well… What do we do if we actually find someone else here?"

"Not sure, but I like the idea of trapping him alone in a room with Hyde for a few minutes."

William and Frankenstein looked at Jekyll with some alarm. He caught their expression of shock and gave them both a bitter smirk, "Don't worry. I wouldn't actually sick Hyde on anyone. Besides, Hyde's never taken orders from me anyway."

"I'm not sure if that's supposed to be a comfort or not," remarked Frankenstein. He had a mind to ask Jekyll more about the nature of his transformations. Was he always aware of when he had last been Hyde? Could he have slept through a transformation?

They were important questions, but ones Frankenstein elected to put aside. For the moment, it seemed more pertinent to search the premises. If they could rule out the possibility of anyone hiding among the deserted rooms, then there would be time to begin suspecting his roommates.

As a group, they decided it was better to recommence the search together. Vinny was enthusiastic about the idea of secret passages and trap doors, and he kept them in a single room for half an hour together while he combed over every inch, tapping wall panels and pulling books off of shelves.

"Come on, Vinny! There's no one hiding in this room!" William protested once they'd been searching in this way for over two hours.

"If we're going to do this right, we need to be thorough!"

William groaned and stalked into the hall where he leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets. Frankenstein was feeling his frustration. It seemed like they were going in circles. Walking over the same rooms again and again. Trying the same doors they'd tried a hundred times. Going over the possibilities of Y's identity, his motives, and how he could know all of them. But talking wasn't getting them anywhere, and he had already lost hope that this search would come up with anything.

The others probably felt the same way. Except for Vinny, who really seemed to believe in his secret passage theory, they seemed to be just going through the motions. They reminded him a bit of Beth. She worked diligently alongside the others, but it seemed to Frankenstein that they were merely looking for something to do. They all seemed to need some activity to make themselves feel useful, and make their situation less hopeless.

Frankenstein felt detached from the whole situation. In a way, he knew they looked to him for guidance. But they also didn't trust him. He had run out of ideas, both for discovering anything that might shed light on the mystery of why they were here, and of means for clearing his name.

Lucky for him, he didn't have to work alone. William's voice tentatively called out from the hallway, "Uh… Guys? I think I may have found Vinny's secret passage."

Vinny gave a whoop of excitement and bounded for the door. Jekyll and Frankenstein exchanged looks of shocked disbelief, and were not far in following. William stood in the hall, looking just as surprised as the rest of them, but with more fear in his expression. The secret passage lay hidden behind a tapestry in the hall, the same he had been leaning against moments before.

The tapestry, a heavy old thing, had covered the wall from where it was pinned in place near the ceiling all the way down to the stone floor. Other than its rather gruesome depiction of a group of dogs viciously tearing apart a stag, there was nothing remarkable about the piece. It was no wonder none of them gave it a second glance, as similar tapestries adorned the walls in this section of the castle. But when William moved the heavy drapery aside, a wooden door with no handle was revealed.

Frankenstein felt his heart pounding in his chest. He approached William and the door with hesitation, addressing Jekyll over his shoulder.

"Do you think it will open?"

"One way to find out." Jekyll answered. He quickly stepped around the more cautious doctor and pressed his hand against the smooth wood of the door. He pushed, and the door swung open without a sound.

Frankenstein and the others gathered around the opening. His shoulders were pressed against those of William on one side and Vinny's on the other. He was distantly aware of a vague sense of surprise to feel Vinny's presence. Although it was clear from the way Vinny filled out the loosely hanging clothes on his form that he had substance, Victor half expected the invisible man to pass through him like a ghost, or perhaps to have the same consistency of cobwebs.

But there would be time to study Vinny in greater detail later. For now, he was more eager to discover what – or who – lay hidden behind the secret door.

He could sense the same feeling of expectation from the others, but for the moment, their anticipation would have to wait. The other side of the door faced a pit of blackness impossible to penetrate. The only thing visible were a few stone steps, illuminated by the light spilling in from the hall, but gradually fading as they descended down into the dark.

They listened, Frankenstein unconsciously holding his breath as he waited for the faintest sound to reach them. There was nothing.

"Alright. So we've found some stairs. Who's going down?" Jekyll said.

"Going down?" William asked.

"Well, we haven't been doing all this searching to give up now. If there's anyone hiding in this house, this is the most likely place they'd be hidden. Someone will have to go down and check."

"OK, sure. But why don't we all go look together then?"

"Someone will have to wait at the top of the stairs in case whoever is down there tries to double back in the dark and sneak away."

He said it all so reasonably that Frankenstein was almost fooled into believing he wasn't afraid, but it was clear from the way Jekyll backed away from the door and crossed his arms across his chest that intended to be of the party waiting at the top of the stairs.

"Beth and I will wait here for the rest of you."

"Now wait just a moment!" Frankenstein said, "What makes you think I'm going to leave my wife alone with any of you? Where Beth is, that's where I'm going to be."

Jekyll raised his eyebrows at Frankenstein, saying candidly, "I haven't the slightest objection, Dr. Frankenstein."

He then directed his gaze toward William and Vinny. Frankenstein took his place between Jekyll and Beth, crossing his arms in twin posture of Jekyll and staring down the two younger men.

"Why are you looking at us like that?" Vinny asked.

William glanced sidelong at the obscure steps. "You're not suggesting Vinny and I go down there?"

"You're wasting daylight."

William leveled a nasty glare at them both, but Vinny stopped his next words with an invisible hand on his shoulder.

"C'mon, Will! It's not so bad. Whatever's down there could be really cool!"

"It could also be a way out of here," Frankenstein added.

"We're all in this together, buddy!"

William shrugged Vinny's hand off his shoulder, muttering, "I'm not your buddy."

Still, he turned reluctantly toward the steps and stared down.

"You go first, Vinny."

"To hell with that. You go first."

"What happened to 'we're all in this together?"

"I am with you. Just about ten feet behind you."

"Ass."

"Hey! That's not very nice. At least you're a werewolf. If anything happens, you can go beast-mode and lay some smack-down on them. What can I do? I'm just invisible."

"It's not like I can control it!"

"Both of you shut up and get going!" Jekyll yelled.

The boys jumped and scurried down the first few steps, William in the lead. Frankenstein stepped closer to the edge of the staircase and called after their retreating forms, "Don't worry! Dr. Jekyll and I will be right here! Just call if you need anything!"

"I'm going to need a new pair of pants if there's actually someone hiding down here!" Vinny called back.

Frankenstein smiled and turned back to Jekyll. "Do you really think there's someone else here? I mean, will they be safe by themselves?"

"If Y was going to hurt us, he would have done so by now," Jekyll said.

"Maybe he's waiting for something."

"Like what?"

But Frankenstein said nothing. He continued staring down the staircase, listening to the sounds of William and Vinny whispering to each other. He said nothing, but he thought plenty. Jekyll may be playing dumb, but there was always the possibility that Y was one of them. Y was playing a game, but not letting anyone else know the rules. That being the case, the answer to the mystery might lie in Jekyll's alter-ego. Frankenstein wondered if they would soon meet the infamous Mr. Hyde.


	6. Corpse Cases

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which another guest is discovered.

Frankenstein's words echoed behind them as Vinny and William made their way down the dark staircase. William spared one glance over his shoulder before deciding that was a bad idea. The sight of Vinny's headless form was still too creepy, especially given the circumstances. He preferred to keep his eyes forward for whatever might be lurking in the shadows below.

"I hate this," he muttered under his breath. "I hate doing stuff like this. I hate being stuck in this freaking castle. And I swear to god, if there really is someone hiding down here, I'm going to wet my pants."

"Has anyone ever told you that you inspire confidence in others?"

"Shut up, Vinny."

"I'm just saying, maybe we should do something about your outlook on life. You're kind of a downer."

"I said shut up."

"Or what? You're not going to start crying like you were last night, are you?"

William stopped dead in his tracks, almost sending both himself and Vinny tumbling down the last few steps as Vinny collided with his back.

"Hey, bro! Watch it! I was just kidding about that whole crying thing."

"Vinny…"

"No seriously. I'm not going to tell anyone. But you shouldn't feel embarrassed about it. Everybody cries sometimes."

"Damn it, Vinny! Will you just look?"

"Look at what?" Vinny started to ask, but then he must have seen what it was that had William frozen in place. His next words were swallowed and replaced with a quiet, "Oh… shit."

The staircase led to a small wine cellar. There didn't seem to be any other doorways or staircases from which a person could escape. The wine racks were nearly empty, but for a few dusty bottles scattered here and there. About the only interesting fixture in the room came in the form of two long boxes sitting side by side in the middle of the floor.

"Don't tell me that's what I think it is."

"You mean a coffin?"

"That's exactly what I didn't want you to say, Vinny."

"But it looks like a coffin."

"Right, but I don't think I can deal with this right now."

"Well, it's not really something you have to deal with. A coffin's just a coffin."

"Stop saying coffin!"

William felt the pressure of Vinny's hands on his shoulders as he gave him a light shove. "Just move already!" said the invisible man. "We can't stand here all day! Besides, our mystery host could be hiding in one of those… cadaver crates."

"Cadaver crates?"

"You're the one who said to stop saying coffin."

"Well maybe you're right. Maybe there is someone in there. Maybe, that's exactly what I'm afraid of."

William wasn't joking when he said he was afraid. He was truly terrified. But even as his fear kept him rooted to the spot, his eyes unable to turn away from the sight of the coffins, he began to notice obvious distinctions between the two.

One was exactly what a person would expect, having seen them in the movies - a long, narrow wooden box, darkened with age but bearing the lacquer of a modern coffin. But the vessel lying next to it was of older make. To William, it looked just like something he would have seen in his history books when studying ancient Egypt.

"Is that… a sarcophagus?"

"It's too dark down here… I can't tell."

"I think it is… Look at the shape of it. And I think there's an effigy on the lid."

William's curiosity got the better of his fear, and he slowly started to creep toward the two boxes. However, he had only managed a couple of steps in the direction of the second box before the first opened with a loud creak.

William jumped back with a squeal of terror, reaching out for Vinny and grasping onto his shirt. He continued to scream for some time, all of his fear and the overwhelming emotions he had experienced over the last few months finding release in one long wail. The sound reverberated off the walls and finally faded away. From the top of the stairs, Frankenstein's voice called out to them anxiously.

"We're fine!" Vinny yelled. He grasped William's hands, still clawing at the front of his shirt. "Dude. What the hell are you screaming about? It's just Dracula."

It was true that as William had been screaming, Dracula slowly swung open the lid of his coffin, attached by hinges to the base. He was sitting up now, surrounded by the black silk interior of his bed, staring at Vinny and William wordlessly, his eyes wide with an inexplicable emotion.

"You do realize that in any other situation that's still completely terrifying. He's Dracula. He's still evil."

"Yeah, but at least he's someone we know. I mean, what if some guy we'd never even met was rising out of that thing?"

William jerked his head in the direction of the still unopened sarcophagus. "Well, speaking of people we don't know…"

"Maybe it's one of Drac's brides?"

"Look at the effigy, stupid. It's clearly a man."

Vinny's form shifted in the direction of the vampire, as if reaching out to him for some sort of insight. "Partner…?" he suggested slowly, his voice questioning.

William looked again at Dracula to see what sort of reaction he would have to Vinny's implication. Dracula continued to stare wide-eyed at the both of them, his expression inscrutable. He still didn't make a sound. He neither sneered nor spat threats at either of them. For once, William thought, he didn't even seem angry. Instead, he just looked shocked, as if he couldn't even comprehend how he had found himself in such a situation, among such company as he now found himself in. William almost laughed. He could understand the feeling.

Dracula shifted his attention to the sarcophagus, his expression of shock quickly melting away. A look of quiet rage replaced it as he slowly turned back toward William and Vinny. With one long, pale finger pointed toward the sarcophagus, he asked, "Did you put that there?"

William didn't like the accusatory tone in his voice. "Us?" he said with irritation, "We just got here."

"Did you put that there?" Dracula repeated, as if he hadn't heard William speak at all. The sound of fury in his tone was rapidly increasing.

Vinny intervened, saying, "You mean it wasn't there before?"

"Of course not. Why would I keep an Egyptian sarcophagus in my cellar?"

"I dunno. Why do you keep a coffin down here?"

"Because I am a vampire, you pissant. And there was nothing down here but my coffin before I laid to rest. So it had to be one of you. Tell me, who am I murdering this evening?"

"Afternoon."

"What?"

"It's still afternoon. You'll be murdering one of us this afternoon, not this evening."

"Vinny, shut up!"

William swallowed nervously and took a deep breath before speaking to Dracula again. "Actually, we think there's someone else in the house. We've been looking everywhere since breakfast…"

Dracula did not seem interested in his story. He quickly jumped up from his coffin in one fluid motion and was at the side of the sarcophagus in the same instant. William was taken aback by his speed, and hardly had time to register what he was about to do before Dracula had already done it. Without hesitation, he threw the heavy stone lid of the sarcophagus to the floor.

The stone cracked in two large pieces as it collided with the clay floor. William nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound, but he managed to bite back a second scream before he could embarrass himself again. A sort of morbid curiosity overcame him as he watched Dracula rest his hands against the edge of the open sarcophagus. William tried to peer over the edge from where he was standing, but the light was too dim in the cellar to make out anything distinct, even for his eyes.

"There are candles and matches behind you." Dracula said, as if he could read William's thoughts. William tried to remember what he'd heard of Dracula's powers from movies. Maybe Dracula really was reading his mind?

Feeling even more creeped out, he turned to find a tarnished silver candelabrum on a short wooden table. The matches were there just as Dracula said, and soon the bright light of several taper candles illuminated the cellar.

Dracula motioned impatiently when William hesitated, hoisting the candelabrum to shoulder height. William was still curious to see what figure lay in the box, but he didn't like the idea of getting too close to Dracula. The candelabrum was passed to Vinny, who was only too pleased to get closer to the vampire.

"A mummy! Cool! Will, you have to see this."

William crept closer at his summons, taking a place across from Dracula and Vinny. The gold light of the candle shined down on the yellowed wrappings of the dead man. William was both relieved and somewhat disappointed to see that the man had been wrapped tightly in his bindings, and didn't seem to have been disturbed for a very long time. He wasn't quite what William had expected from a real mummy. His bandages were not slipping from a shrunken, emaciated form, revealing bone and rotting flesh beneath. On the contrary, he looked quite snug.

The three of them were still. Each man stared down at the form for several long minutes, examining the mummified man.

Dracula crouched over the figure and lowered his head toward its face. Without warning, he gave a wordless shout directly into the mummy's ear. William jumped and reflexively moved to cover his ears, but the echoes of Dracula's yell were already dissipating. Dracula frowned at the resting form. The mummy, unsurprisingly, had shown no reaction to the vampire's provocation.

"What was that?" Frankenstein called from the top of the stairs.

"Come on down!" Vinnie shouted back, mimicking a game show host. "See for yourself what prizes we have in store!"

"It's only Dracula!" William said, surprising even himself. He never imagined he would say those words together in a sentence. "And we've found a mummy!"

They heard the sound of heavy footfalls racing quickly down the stairs. In the next instant, Frankenstein was with them, looking elated.

"A mummy! Have you really? Is he dead?"

Jekyll and Beth followed soon after Frankenstein, each moving a more leisurely pace. Jekyll frowned at Frankenstein as he helped Beth down the stairs. He barely glanced in the direction of the two caskets. "Of course he's dead, Frankenstein. It's a damn mummy."

"I meant is he dead or undead? I don't think it's such a ridiculous question given our present company. He could be under one of those ancient Egyptian curses you hear so much about."

"Oh yes," Jekyll said dryly, "I hear those have been going around."

Frankenstein ignored him and turned to inspect the new specimen. He seemed slightly disappointed to see the figure lying so still. "No reaction?"

Dracula grunted, then disrespectfully pushed the corpse to the side, rolling it over so its bandaged face was pressed to the side of the clay coffin.

Frankenstein gasped, "What are you doing?"

"Looking for clues, obviously." Dracula said, not looking up from his task.

"Like, zoinks Velma! Do you really think there will be a clue next to that old mummy?"

Dracula lifted his head and stared at Vinny with the same wide-eyed expression he had when he first rose from his coffin. To William, it seemed as if his anger towards them all was lost in wonder over how idiotic Vinny truly seemed.

He wasn't entirely alone. Frankenstein and Jekyll were staring at Vinny with expressions of mixed perplexity and amazement at his foolishness. William was just impressed that Vinny could still make such lame jokes at a time like this.

The awkward silence carried on until Vinny finally shrugged his shoulders. "Nobody else watches Scooby. That's fine. Your loss, not mine. But I still say we take off those bandages. It could be old man Jenkins under that disguise."

Dracula looked at William. "Explain," he demanded.

"He's talking about an old cartoon. There are these people who solve mysteries, and there are always monsters who turn out to be people…" William stopped when he saw Dracula's brow cloud over with his usual frown. "And it's not important," he finished quickly.

Dracula nodded, satisfied with this answer, and turned back to his task.

"Anything there?" asked Jekyll, moving closer to get a better look.

Dracula only shook his head, "Only what you would expect. Loose linens… Salt…"

"Anubis," Vinny added. The others looked to where his seemingly empty sleeve pointed. Near the base of the mummy sat four clay jars neatly packed in the same linen that wrapped the mummy.

William saw that each jar was topped with the head of an Egyptian god. One looked like a person. Another, a falcon. The third was more difficult to determine, though it looked to William like a weasel. The last had the head of a jackal.

It was this last that Dracula lifted from the sarcophagus to better inspect. "Actually, I believe this is Duamutef."

William and the others stared at Dracula in astonishment. He glared at them. "What? Am I not allowed to be knowledgeable? Do I not have books that I am capable of reading?"

"Forgive our amazement," said Frankenstein, "I just didn't expect you to be an expert on ancient Egyptian gods."

"I am not. But I do remember a few things. For example, these are canopic jars. They were used to hold a person's internal organs once they were mummified. If I am remembering correctly, then Duamutef usually held a man's stomach."

Vinny grabbed the jar from Dracula's hand and held it closer to the light. "Cool! Which one has his brains?"

Dracula stood from his crouching position and snatched the jar back out of Vinny's hands. "They did not store the brain. It was removed, but not kept."

"They didn't keep the brain?" Frankenstein asked, "But that's preposterous. What is a man without his brain?"

"I do not think it matters to the mummy either way. He will not be using it."

"Very funny."

"Then I don't think we have anything to learn from this fellow," Jekyll said. "Mummy's curse or no, I don't think he'd be able to manage rising from his grave without a brain."

"Why not? Vinny seems to get around just fine."

"Hey! Why you gotta play me that way, Vlad?"

"Because you are an idiot, and I hate you."

"Did you guys hear that? Dracula hates me! Man, I am so glad I went on this vacation."

"I think we've lost sight of the main problem here," Jekyll said.

Frankenstein nodded in agreement, then paused. Sheepishly, he asked, "And that would be…?"

"Why is there a mummy in the cellar?"

"One of you must have put it here while I slept."

"Yeah right!" said William, "As if one person could carry that thing downstairs by themselves. It must weigh over 300 pounds!"

"I could do it."

"Yeah, well we're not all freaky vampires like you."

"Fine. Then perhaps it was two of you working together." He looked pointedly toward Frankenstein and Jekyll.

Frankenstein grew red in the face. "I resent your implication, Dracula! Do you mean to accuse me in this?"

"I suspect all of you of having a hand in this. And I will continue to do so until we have discovered who is responsible, you have managed to find a way out of my castle, or until I kill you all. Whichever comes first."

Frankenstein opened his mouth to object again, but Jekyll laid a firm hand on his arm. "Dracula makes a good point. We have to start considering the possibility that this is a two-man job. And if that's the case, one of us could be working with Y."

"Or one of us could be Y and have an accomplice on the outside," Vinny suggested.

"But someone on the outside must have a way in," said Dracula.

"That's why we were down here in the first place!" William said, starting to feel panicky again. "We were looking for whoever it was that left the food upstairs! And now I guess that person left a mummy down here in the cellar for god knows what reason! But we've searched all over the house, and we haven't found anyone, and all the doors are still locked!"

Dracula sighed, "That would not have done you any good. Someone with the knowledge of how to get in would obviously know how to get out again. They would not just leave a door open and make it easy for us to follow."

"Fine. So we're back to square one."

"Not quite. We have a mummy now."

"Fan-freaking-tastic."

Dracula seemed to shake himself out of a reverie, he stretched, which seemed an odd behavior for a vampire, though William wasn't sure why he thought so at the time. Perhaps because the casual action seemed so human, it didn't quite seem to fit the attitude of the vampire. But when he stared at William and said, "Wolf-boy. Tell me the time," his directive seemed entirely in character.

William bristled at being addressed thusly, "Do I look like I have a watch?"

Dracula raised his eyebrows at William's brazen attitude, but was spared having to respond by Frankenstein, who inspected an expensive looking silver watch strapped to his wrist.

"It's just past two in the afternoon," he said.

Dracula nodded, then pointed to William, "Wolf-boy. Go upstairs and fetch my book on ancient Egyptian culture."

"Excuse me?"

"Book. Egypt. Mummies. Fetch."

"I don't take orders from you! And I have a name, you know!"

Dracula glared at him, his patience long gone. "Frankenstein," he spat through clenched teeth, his eyes never leaving William, "Explain to the wolf-boy that so long as he is under my roof he will make himself useful or I will find my own use for him."

Frankenstein looked startled. "What exactly do you mean?"

"It sounds like you all had your breakfast delivered to you. Surely you've realized that I had no such honor bestowed on me? I shall have to shift for myself for nourishment."

"Oh oh!" Vinny said cheerfully, "Maybe that's what the mummy is for!" When the others stared at him blankly, he continued, "you know… Maybe the mummy is Vlad's breakfast."

Dracula looked the picture of insulted. "That mummy is thousands of years old!"

"Yeah and this is a wine cellar. Maybe mummies age like a fine wine."

Dracula clenched his fists and took three deep breaths. "Let me make myself perfectly clear. The only reason I haven't made good on my word to kill all of you is because I may need at least one of you to get the hell out of here. Furthermore, if I discover one of you is our secret captor, or is working for him, I will not hesitate to murder you with my bare hands and feast on your blood. That said, it is in your best interests to do as I say, when I say it, lest I lose my patience and forget my resolve to forbear killing you. I am not your friend. We are not allies. Do you understand me?"

When the others failed to respond and even Vinny was silent, Dracula continued. "Good. Now let this be the last time I repeat myself. Wolf-boy, fetch the book. It should be in the den. Vinny, leave the candles on the table. The rest of you are dismissed."

William took a deep breath and shouted, "My name is William!" before he dashed up the stairs to comply with Dracula's wishes. He didn't want to give the vampire the chance to have the last word.

Maybe it was childish of him to abandon the others like that, and he hated that he was doing as the vampire commanded, but he was past the point of caring. He could hear the others pass through the hall, Frankenstein and his wife talking in hurried whispers, Jekyll lecturing Vinny on some inappropriate comment that he made. None of it mattered to William. Never in his life had anyone spoken to him the way that Dracula had. He was beyond insulted.

"Hey, Willster. How ya holdin' up?"

"Go away Vinny."

"Need any help finding that book?"

"I said go away!"

"You're not about to cry again, are you?"

"No, I'm not!"

In truth, William could feel his eyes sting with building tears, and he turned away from Vinny on the pretext of inspecting one of the bookshelves. He knew it was only his anger that made his eyes burn, but he still felt ashamed for being so weak.

"How can the rest of you just put up with that? Didn't you hear how he talks to us? We're insects to him!"

"Hey, now. Cool your jets, bruv. You know he's only like that because he's as frustrated as the rest of us. Everybody's a little on edge."

"You're not. You seem perfectly happy to be here. In fact, I'd say if any of us is an accomplice of Y, it's probably you."

"Really? I'm flattered. Personally, I think it's Dracula who's behind all of this."

"Are you serious? He hates that we're here."

"Methinks the lady doth protest too much."

"Huh?"

"He's so eager to let us know just how much this little sleepover wasn't his idea. But do you honestly think he can't find a way out of his own castle? The guy can turn into mist, for Christ's sake! I think he's puttin' on an act. Think about it, who's to say that sarcophagus wasn't there the whole time? None of us even knew about the creepy basement."

William wasn't a hundred percent convinced, but part of Vinny's argument was starting to make sense. It was strange that such a large coffin should be moved into the cellar without anyone hearing it, especially if Dracula was sleeping right next to where they sat it. And it seemed strange to him suddenly that Dracula should send him to find a book on ancient Egyptian customs, as if people usually kept those lying around.

"He did seem fairly knowledgeable about the whole mummy burial thing." William acknowledged.

"That's what I'm saying," Vinny said. He pulled a book off the shelf right in front of William's face. "And dude, you've been staring at this for five minutes and haven't even noticed."

William grabbed the book from where it seemed to be floating in midair, and read the title. "Nile Mysticism. A guide to the religious structure and burial customs in ancient Egypt," he read aloud. He looked toward the place where Vinny's head should be, just above the shoulders of his shirt, "I suppose I'd better take this to him…"

"Better you than me! He may hate all of us, but I think he loathes me."

William nodded, "If he does decide to go on a killing spree, either you or I will be the first to go."

"Well, good luck taking that book to him in the creepy basement!"

"… Gee, thanks."

William tucked the book under one arm and began trudging down the hall. He was seriously considering hurling the book down the cellar steps and spending the rest of the afternoon hiding in his room while daylight lasted. He was just making up his mind whether this action would extend or shorten his life expectancy when he saw Jekyll standing near the hidden cellar entrance.

His expression was grave as he slowly approached William. He nodded toward the book under William's arm. "Is that the one?"

"It must be. How many books on Egypt can one guy have?"

"Right, well let's take it down to him quickly. I want to get this over with."

"… You're coming with me?"

"For the time being, I don't trust Dracula alone with any of us. Best if we see him in pairs."

William stared down at his feet. He was grateful for the company, but embarrassed to admit that being around Dracula terrified him more than it angered him.

"Thanks," he said, and the two headed down the staircase together.


	7. Of Vampires and Mummies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jekyll talks shit.

The whole party had been cursed since before their arrival. That at least was Jekyll's opinion. In investigating the common link between them all, Jekyll was surprised that no one had mentioned it aloud. They had discussed the matter of their connection to works of fiction over and over again. For Frankenstein, this seemed to be the greatest clue they had in discovering the identity of their host-captor. But with the arrival of the mummy, and William's dubious role among their number, Jekyll began to suspect there was something more that they were missing.

He had to find something useful before dusk. He sat alone, pouring over a stack of books he had gathered from Dracula's shelves. The vampire's collection spanned a wide breadth of knowledge. He had biographies and historical accounts of people and events ranging from ancient times to the last decade. He had books on natural science dated from the Renaissance and modern books on technology. And when it came to languages, he had books with symbols that Jekyll couldn't even identify. He wondered if Dracula had read them all.

But the subject of Jekyll's search was curses, and as for occult information, Dracula's collection had very little. Jekyll had been amused to find a tattered paperback copy The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Dracula had been using it to prop up the uneven leg of one of his tables. As for the rest, Jekyll had collected a small stack of books dealing with human anatomy, chemistry, and a biography of Niokla Tesla. Dracula had the account of Ancient Egypt in the cellar with him, so Jekyll would have to content himself with what he could discover from books he hoped would shed some light on the conditions of his housemates.

His search was proving unfruitful, and his mind began to wander. He started to think about how wonderfully stable his life had been before Hyde. Without him, Jekyll would never have been dragged into this whole affair. Then again, Jekyll would certainly have been long dead if it weren't for Hyde. He flipped through the chemistry book, reflecting back on his own experiments in that vein, and wondering, not for the first time, what it was about the potion he made that sustained himself and Hyde for so long.

It was an odd side effect, his immortality. But the fact was that before he had imbibed the potion that split his psyche into pieces, Jekyll had been an ageing man. With the appearance of Hyde, that ageing had stopped. Of course, it took him years to realize this was the case, but from the reports of others, Jekyll had learned that Hyde also seemed fixed in time. What's more, Jekyll never again fell ill to any kind of sickness. He truly seemed immortal.

But he had never put it to the test. It's true, on more than one occasion when he was in despair over some heinous act committed by Hyde, Jekyll had considered taking his own life and doing away with both of them. But he never could follow through. The truth was, Jekyll was a very selfish man. He enjoyed life, though he had to share his with a madman. Watching the progress of time unfold and seeing the various changes worked in the world of men was one of the few joys he had left in life. He was not anxious to leave it.

He did not consider his immortality a curse, but he did consider himself cursed by the presence of Hyde. In that respect, he considered himself and his housemates equally matched. Dracula was under the vampire's curse, clearly. Frankenstein had created his own demons when he discovered the secret to reanimating the dead. William had suffered a werewolf bite and Vinny's use of his great-grandfather's records had rendered him permanently invisible. As for the mummy in the cellar – hadn't they all heard stories of the dreaded "mummy's curse?" The only outlier was Beth. Jekyll still didn't understand how she could have been dragged into this, unless being married to that ponce Frankenstein was a curse in itself.

"What are you reading?"

Although shocked out of his reverie by William's abrupt question, Jekyll maintained a façade of calm as he returned the boy's stare. He smiled at him.

"I'm not sure you can really call it reading. I think I've been staring at the same page for fifteen minutes together, and I haven't absorbed a single word."

"Can I join you?"

"In my not-reading? Be my guest."

As Jekyll had seated himself in the comfortable armchair next to the fire – the one previously occupied by Dracula the night before – William chose a spot on the sofa opposite him. He grabbed a book from the pile collected by Jekyll and flipped through it absently, clearly less interested in the reading than Jekyll was.

Jekyll watched him for a few moments before lowering his gaze to the page of the book once again. He had only time enough to read three words before William spoke again.

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?" Jekyll asked patiently. He wasn't the least bit upset about being interrupted again. Truthfully, he suspected Dracula was in possession of the only useful book in the castle. And he was far too distracted by his own thoughts to focus on reading.

"How do you stay so calm? I feel like I'm going crazy."

"Do you think I'm calm?"

William stared hard at him again, but Jekyll did not back down. He gazed right back at him, smiling slightly at the boy's intensity. It was William who looked away first.

"You look calm."

"Well, looks can be deceiving. The truth is I'm probably just as scared as you are."

William shot him a defensive glare, "I am not scared."

Jekyll raised his brows and let out a short laugh. "You'd be a fool not to be scared, William. You are in a situation in which you have no control, separated from family, friends, and anyone who would be able to help you. What's more, you've recently found yourself the victim of a curse that robs you of your own self-control. And do I need to remind you about the homicidal vampire sitting quietly in the basement?"

William grew paler. Jekyll's smile turned into a teasing grin. "I think he's taken a liking to you."

"Shut up. You've made your point. But you haven't explained how you're able to sit there as if nothing's wrong."

"That's because I know nothing good would come of me… That is to say, I cannot allow myself to lose my composure. If I act on certain emotions, I've found that can often be a trigger."

"You turn into Hyde."

"… That's right."

"Like the Hulk."

Jekyll couldn't mask his surprise that time. He and William both jumped at the sound of Vinny's voice. Apparently, the invisible man had stripped down to his birthday suit once again, and slipped into the room without anyone being aware. Jekyll wondered just how long he'd been there eavesdropping.

"The Hulk?" William asked.

"Yeah, like 'you wouldn't like him when he's angry."

Jekyll chuckled at that and said, "Exactly."

He found the worried expression on William's face amusing.

"So what's he like?" Vinny asked. "Your better half."

"Oh, he's just like me," Jekyll said with a feigned air of disinterest. "Except he doesn't have a conscience. He completely lacks any feeling of guilt, remorse, or shame. The only thing he cares about is himself. But other than the fact that he's a psychopath who would sooner take a human life than feel himself slightly inconvenienced, he's a great guy."

"So when do we get to meet him?" asked Vinny.

"Preferably never."

"That's fine by me," said William. "I think we've got enough to worry about with Dracula around."

Jekyll chuckled, "As to that, I don't think he's going to give us much trouble?"

"The man you just described as a homicidal vampire isn't going to give us trouble? How do you figure?"

"Consider his history. I take it you all have read Bram Stoker's Dracula? Or at least seen one of the films?" He waited until William had nodded his head and Vinny had said "yeah" before continuing, "Well, in that story, Dracula is confronted by four mortal men and one woman. All they manage to do is find his hiding places and consecrate his dirt, and what does he do? He runs. It always struck me as odd that for a creature who is described as having so much power, all it took was five humans to send him running scared. Dracula wasn't going to gather his strength and return to fight them. He didn't even kill one person by his own hand. His great evil plan was simply to hide in his home until the mortals' life spans ran out, then Mina Harker would have come to him as a vampiric ally, and he could return to England again in just a few decades."

"So you're saying he's a coward?" asked Vinny.

"No. I'm suggesting that perhaps Dracula is not as invulnerable to attack as he makes himself out to be. If he was no match against five ordinary humans, what chance does he have against five extraordinary ones? He can't even try to runaway this time, because he's trapped here the same as the rest of us. I think he's not the murder-crazed madman he's made himself out to be. It's possible it's just a defense mechanism."

"That's an interesting theory, in its own way."

Jekyll watched William flinch and turn toward the doorway, his face ashen, before he himself turned to face Dracula.

The vampire stood framed in the doorway, his expression inscrutable. He hadn't spoken in his usual angry tone, though he couldn't have appreciated Jekyll's statements about him. And there was no telling just how much he had heard.

Still, Jekyll could feel William's gaze turning back to him, and he knew the boy feared for Jekyll's safety in that moment. It wouldn't do for Jekyll to show fear toward Dracula now after everything he had just said.

So he smiled at Dracula, hoping his theories were in some small way true, and asked, "It is just a theory, I suppose. One I had been thinking of before I met you. Care to offer a retort?"

"Just one. There were five men. Not four. You are forgetting someone."

Jekyll thought it over. Lucy Westenra's three lovers, Dr. Van Helsing, and Johnathan Harker. Vlad was right. He had forgotten to include someone in his initial count. Dracula seemed to think the distinction important. He wondered who of the party had made the most impact on the vampire's mind.

"Very true. My apologies for the error."

"It doesn't matter. And now I wonder if you all would join me in the cellar for a moment. I believe I may have discovered something interesting."

Dracula turned away without waiting for them to respond. He only paused long enough to say over this shoulder, "Vinny is welcome to join us as well, once he has changed back into his clothes."

Jekyll couldn't believe his luck. William was looking at him in astonishment, and it was true that Jekyll was just a surprised, though he did his best not to show it. That the vampire would be willing to let the subject drop without so much as an insult was truly a thing of wonder.

But he shouldn't be too hasty. It was very likely that the vampire was too preoccupied by his discovery to pay any mind to Jekyll's prattling. Or perhaps he was simply stunned to find himself spoken of in such a way in his own home. He could be biding his time now, waiting for the perfect moment to exact his revenge.

"Perhaps he'll kill the three of us and dump our bodies in the cellar," Jekyll thought to himself, though he truly didn't believe such to be the case. He was quickly losing any fear he held of the vampire, though he reminded himself to keep his guard up. Caution was always better than recklessness, and he knew he couldn't trust Dracula.

Frankenstein and Beth met them at the top of the staircase leading to the cellar. Apparently, Dracula had summoned them as well.

"What has he found?" Frankenstein asked.

Vinny's shrug was visible thanks to the clothes he had put back on for Dracula's benefit. "Dunno. Just said he'd discovered something interesting."

"Well, I don't know why he can't share it with us up here. Why do we have to go to the basement again?"

Jekyll didn't feel like it was a subject worth discussing. He pushed past Vinny and Frankenstein wordlessly, leading the way into the cellar. Curiously, it was William at his back, following before any of the others.

Dracula stood before the open sarcophagus. The book on ancient Egypt lay closed on the small table where the tall candelabrum stood. Steams of wax dripped down the taper candles, spilling over their holders and forming dried pools on the wood below. It didn't seem like long, but hours had already passed since they'd last been down to view the body.

The others gathered around Jekyll and as a group they moved closer to the vampire. He paid them no mind, staring down at the figure of the mummy. Frankenstein was the first to speak.

"Well, what is it? What have you found?"

Dracula looked at him, "Dr. Frankenstein, thank you for volunteering."

"I beg your pardon?"

Dracula beckoned Frankenstein to move closer. The doctor seemed skeptical at first, but curiosity seemed to get the better of him. He drew closer toward the vampire, and in mimicry of him, stared down at the form of the mummy.

"Now, doctor," said Dracula, "I would like you to listen to his heart."

Frankenstein jumped in surprise, "His heart? You can't be serious."

"The heart was one of the few organs not removed during mummification," Dracula explained, "I can assure you that it's still there."

"I'm sure it is. Or the dried, withered husk of what used to be a heart."

"Perhaps, if such an object could still beat."

"I beg your pardon?"

"It's beating. Listen for yourself."

Frankenstein wasted no more time in arguing with Dracula. He eagerly knelt next to the corpse, and rested his ear against the linen-wrapped chest. Jekyll saw William shudder in his periphery. He couldn't blame the boy. He wasn't keen on getting so close to a dead body himself. He supposed Frankenstein must be used to it.

"Oh my god," Frankenstein said after a few moments. "It is beating."

Jekyll bit back the word "impossible." He too drew closer to the mummy and knealt by its side. After he had rested his own ear to the wrapped chest, he looked at Frankenstein and Dracula in awe.

"He's still alive?"

"Hey cool!" Vinny said as he eagerly bent over the body. "Wow! Will, you gotta check this out!"

"No thanks," William said with aversion, "I believe you guys." Beth seemed to be of William's opinion. She remained by the werewolf's side a half smile on her face, but her body tense with what Jekyll assumed was anxiety. He wished Victor had left her upstairs.

Frankenstein looked at Dracula with disapproval, "What did you do?"

Dracula looked insulted, "I did not do anything. I only heard his heart beat a few moments before I went to get all of you."

"But why didn't you notice this before?"

"Do you know I can hear all of your hearts beat as well? It's annoying. And besides, it is a faint sound. I didn't notice until everything was quiet. When I got closer to look over the body again, I thought I heard something. I knew none of you would believe me until you'd heard it yourselves, so I went and got you."

"But what does it mean?" asked Frankenstein. "Is there really a mummy's curse, after all?"

"It may be that he's not a mummy at all," Jekyll said, staring at the prone form. "Maybe someone just made him to look that way."

"Well what do we do with him?"

They all looked toward Dracula, seeking his instruction. As it was his discovery, they all depended on the vampire to know what was to be done next.

"We need to see what's inside these jars," said Dracula. "And I want to undo the bindings. We need to know who's under there. Dr. Frankenstein, would you do the honors?"

Frankenstein looked first to his wife, then down at the mummy. He swallowed hard, as if the action was painful for him.

"OK. Let's get started."


	8. The Stuff of Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which an investigation begins and Beth serves a purpose.

The light in the cellar was deemed insufficient for their investigation. The little illumination cast from the candles may have been enough for Dracula, but it was hardly enough for the others to see by. Frankenstein quickly decided that the mummy would have to be moved upstairs.

No one was keen on the job. William, as the guest with the greatest musculature, was naturally looked to as the first option. But he backed away from the others, shaking his head from side to side and muttering, “No… No way… I’m not touching that thing…”

It was eventually Dracula’s impatience that got the ball rolling. He lifted the body himself, not bothering to ask for assistance, and began carting it up the stairs.

“Be careful with it!” Frankenstein commanded, his scientific mind overcoming his fear of the vampire, “Even if it’s not sentient it could still be a delicate specimen.”

“Do you want to carry him?” Dracula sneered, but he was careful with the body all the same.

The mummy was eventually placed in the dining room where the group had breakfasted earlier that day. Beth had cleared away the dishes and food, storing the leftovers as best she could.

Frankenstein didn’t like to think that the same table that had recently held such delicacies was now the resting place of a dead body.

“Or… Mostly dead,” Frankenstein corrected himself silently. He mustn’t forget the heartbeat they had all heard.

He lowered his head toward the wrappings again, checking to be sure that his ears hadn’t played any tricks on him. It would be easy to imagine something that wasn’t really there when plagued with anxiety in a shadowy basement while in the presence of a vampire. But the second test bore the same results. He could just hear the faint, yet unmistakable thump of a heartbeat within the chest of the mummified man.

He straightened up. The others were staring at him in anticipation. William hovered near the doorway, as if ready to bolt should the mummy suddenly rise from his slumber. Dracula stood a comfortable distance away, his arms crossed over his thin chest. Vinny, as usual, was impossible to decipher, but even Dr. Jekyll was staring at Frankenstein with open interest. It was clear they were waiting for him to proceed.

Frankenstein looked down at the mummified form again. He realized suddenly that he did not want to do this. He had learned his lesson long ago about tampering with the dead. He hadn’t touched a cadaver since his last experiment went so terribly wrong, and he certainly was not looking to start again.

He could feel his anxiety rising even as he fought to conceal it from the other men. But how could he avoid the task without humiliating himself or appearing more suspicious to the others? He already knew what they must be thinking of him. To back down now after suggesting that they investigate would seem too strange.

He felt a cool hand wrap lightly around his sweaty palm. He looked down into the smiling face of his wife.

“Shall I begin, darling?” Beth asked, as if she were about to begin a piano recital or an amusing board game, rather than the unveiling a mysterious corpse.

Frankenstein took a moment to process her suggestion before he let out the breath he had been holding. He smiled at Beth in relief. Covertly, he squeezed her hand just before releasing it.

“Yes, you may proceed. I’ll be a making the observations.”

He avoided the gazes of the other men, unsure if he wanted to see their reactions to Beth’s participation. He was sure Dr. Jekyll at least would disapprove, but no one said anything as Beth carefully but dexterously began removing the wrappings surrounding the form.

“The body is pliable. We saw that when Vlad carried it upstairs,” Frankenstein said. “That’s unusual for a mummified specimen, but we can’t surmise anything from that alone. His skin is remarkably well preserved, though that’s not necessarily unusual. However, mummified bodies often have a blackened appearance, and it appears that this one is lacking any of the discoloration one would expect. There is some muscle under the flesh, but he has the same emaciated appearance as…”

“I’m sorry,” Jekyll interrupted suddenly, “He? So it is in fact a male?”

Frankenstein hesitated before responding. He hadn’t intended to refer to the body as a man. It was easier for him to perform this task by thinking of the corpse as an object only.

He had to remind himself that the reason they were conducting this study in the first place was because they’d all heard a heartbeat in this dead man’s chest. Though when he looked now at the dry, un-moving form, he had a hard time picturing any life within.

Frankenstein gestured toward the body and answered Jekyll’s question, “The pelvic bone and the shape and size of the bones in the face would indicate…”

Here he broke off again, though no one had interrupted him this time. Beth had just removed the bindings from the mummy’s head, and Frankenstein was taken aback by the appearance of the face underneath.

The skin was taught and shiny over high cheekbones and a prominent brow, but the features showed no signs of decay. There were the full lips, the earlobes, even eyebrows… All perfectly intact.

“… enstein. Frankenstein. _Victor_!”

He didn’t know that he had stopped narrating his observations to the others. Jekyll’s voice had finally broken through his reverie; otherwise he might have continued to stare at the mummy for hours in perfect silence. He didn’t need to look up to feel their anxious stares directed toward him.

“Care to clue us in, doc?” Vinny asked.

“Yes, he’s a male,” Victor said, finally answering Jekyll’s question. “But look at his head. There’s hair here. Eyebrows, eyelashes… This man should not look this way. Even the best preserved bodies do not look like this after centuries. Beth, his eyes.”

Without needing further instruction, Beth gently pushed back the closed eyelids.

Jekyll recoiled in horror. It took every ounce of Frankenstein’s self-control to prevent him from doing the same. Two glassy orbs stared up toward the ceiling, more perfectly preserved than the rest of the corpse.

“It was not uncommon for the eyes to be removed and replaced with artificial ones after death,” Dracula said. He alone remained completely passive throughout the investigation.

Frankenstein took a few steadying breaths before moving closer for a better look.

“These are not artificial. See the veins? But again, no signs of decay… It doesn’t make any sense. Even if they’d neglected to remove his eyes, these would have been the first things to go when the body was dried.”

 He waved a hand above the mummy’s face, checking for changes in pupil size as the light shifted. But there was nothing.

“Gentlemen, I’m afraid the only sign of life we have from this body is that heartbeat, and I’m beginning to think we were mistaken on that front as well.”

Dracula scoffed, “I know a heartbeat when I hear one.”

“Well the body is well maintained, I’m not denying that. But there’s no reaction to external stimuli at all. You said yourself the brain would have been removed. A man cannot survive without a brain, and a heart would not still be beating.”

“What about the other organs?” Dracula asked, tilting his head toward the canopic jars that had been placed at the end of the table near the corpse’s feet. “Have they actually been removed from his body?”

“Well… He is thin but not as thin as we would expect to see if there were internal organs missing. Though I have heard that bodies were sometimes stuffed to retain their form after the organs were removed. It’s difficulty to say whether…”

Frankenstein was yet again cut off mid-sentence, as Dracula grabbed one of the jars, that with the head of a falcon, and cracked it against the side of the table.

“What are you doing?!” Frankenstein shouted as the falcon’s head was broken from the top of the jar.

“What? It’s not like he’s using them. And look, here are his intestines.”

He tossed the jar to Frankenstein, who caught it instinctively, and immediately wished he hadn’t. He stared down into the contents of the jar to see the coiled mass of the mummy’s very wet and still very bloody intestines.

Beth came to Frankenstein’s rescue as he began to swoon on the spot. She caught him by the arm and quickly took the jar from his hands, setting it back down on the table near the mummy’s side. Dracula did not appear to take notice, as he had moved on to the other containers, snapping off the heads of the animals one by one and peering into the insides of the jars.

“Looks like the lungs are in the worst shape,” Dracula said. “The stomach and the liver look like they were removed only yesterday.”

He gestured with one of the jars clenched in his hand, “What do you make of it, doctor?”

Frankenstein took his time before responding. He wasn’t simply trying to regain his composure. His mind was working on trying to determine exactly what he could conjecture from everything he’d seen. The answer, not much.

“This man cannot possibly have been buried while they were still building the pyramids,” Victor said slowly. “Someone may have gone to great lengths to make it appear that way, but the absence of decay is more appropriate for a recently deceased man.”

“You’re saying we’re looking at a murder?” Jekyll asked.

“What? No, that isn’t what I said.”

“Well, why else would someone go to all the effort to disguise a body and hide it in a sarcophagus? It might make some sense if he was murdered and someone wanted to cover up the crime, make it look like someone who died a long time ago.”

“What if these organs do not really belong to him?” Dracula said, clearly following his own train of thought and ignoring Frankenstein and Jekyll’s conversation. “You said yourself that the body does not look empty. Perhaps the rest of his insides are as well preserved as the rest of him, and his heart is not the only thing with life remaining. These jars could just be for show, or belong to another corpse.”

Frankenstein shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why preserve a body with all of his organs intact, and then store it with jars of another’s person’s organs?”

“I don’t know. I already told you, I can’t reason around lunacy. But you’ve said that this man cannot have life in him without a brain or internal organs, and I heard a heartbeat. So maybe his brain was not removed. Maybe none of the things he would need to survive were actually removed.”

“I’m telling you, it’s impossible! Even if he did have all of his parts, he would still need water, food… Everything a person needs to survive. And we don’t know how long he was locked in that box!”

“But you’re still alive, Dr. Frankenstein. And you once made a monster out of dead flesh, did you not? Why shouldn’t this corpse be alive?”

“Does that look like a living person to you?!” Frankenstein exclaimed, pointing toward the mummy.

“Stop it, both of you,” Jekyll said. “It’s obvious we need more information. Victor, we need to know what’s happened to this man. How he died, how old he is, and what’s going on internally. Is it possible to perform a dissection?”

Frankenstein could feel himself growing sick at the idea. A dissection? Did Jekyll think this was a high school biology lab?

With considerable satisfaction Frankenstein said, “No. I don’t have any of the tools I would need and I doubt Vlad has surgical equipment stored away in some cranny?”

Dracula looked away with obvious disappointment. Frankenstein smiled. It was the truth, but it was also a convenient excuse. Even if he did have the tools he needed, he doubted he would be able to cut into a body again. But there was no reason to share this with the others.

“So then what do we do?” William asked. It was the first time he’d spoken since they had carried the body out of the basement.

Frankenstein shook his head again slowly, “I don’t know. Wait for Y’s instructions, I suppose.”

“Well, isn’t that just brilliant?” Dracula snarled, “Then we’re back to where we started.  Only now we’ve managed to acquire a man who in death is more useless to us than William!”

Frankenstein glared at him. “Unless you want to tear the body apart yourself with your bare hands and risk destroying any chance we have of understanding anything, then there really isn’t more that I can do! We must wait!”

Dracula was in Frankenstein’s face in an instant, his breath hot and foul smelling. “How long?” he asked.

Frankenstein did not attempt to draw away, but he closed his eyes against the penetrating glare directed toward him. “Another day, perhaps. Time enough for our host to leave us another message.”

“Or another body.” Vinny added helpfully.

“Fine,” Dracula said curtly. He turned away from Frankenstein and stalked out of the room toward no one knew where. Frankenstein was relieved to have him away from the others.

“What’s he going to do?” William asked. “I mean, what’ll Dracula do if tomorrow there’s still no message?”

“No idea, buddy-boy, but I’d watch my back if I were you,” said Vinny. “I think Dracula is out to get you first.”

“That’s enough, Vinny,” said Jekyll with a sigh. “Stop trying to scare the boy.”

“I’m not scared.”

“Well you bloody well should be! That vampire totally has it out for you.”

William stared at Jekyll in stunned silence while Vinny laughed. Frankenstein watched Jekyll’s face redden in embarrassment. He looked apologetically at William, and then stared down at his own feet.

“I do apologize. I don’t know why I said that.”

William gaped at him a moment longer, then his expression softened. He clapped Jekyll on the shoulder, saying, “No you’re right. I know when it comes to solving this mystery that I’m not as helpful as the rest of you guys. I’m not a scientist, and about the only thing I’ve managed to accomplish my whole life is surviving a werewolf bite.”

“Are you a college student?” Frankenstein asked abruptly.

“Well, I guess I’m not now. But I was up until last semester before I took the trip to Europe.”

“What was your major?”

“Biology.”

“You have a major in biology and you stood back while I investigated this corpse?”

“I wanted to be a physical therapist! Not a mortician!”

“Never mind. Do you think the reason you were chosen to come here is not because you’re a werewolf, William, but because of your knowledge of human anatomy?”

William shrugged, “I really doubt it. I’m no genius. And I’ll bet Vinny knows a lot more about the human body than I do.”

“Well, I do have a lot of practical experience in that area, if you know what I mean.”

“Jesus, Vinny. I meant scientifically.”

“Yes, that’s what I’m saying. What did you think I meant?”

Frankenstein felt a light tap on his arm and turned his attention toward Beth. She seemed as if she didn’t want to interrupt the flow of conversation, but she looked concerned.

“Beth, what is it?”

 “I’m sorry, darling, but it’s the mummy.”

She spoke softly, but the conversation of the other three immediately ground to a halt. William, who had not realized that he was unconsciously moving further and further into the room, abruptly backed away, bracing his back against the doorframe.

Frankenstein looked at the body, but he could see no difference other than a clean white sheet that Beth had lain carefully over the immobile form. She had pulled the fabric over most of the body, so that now only the smooth features of the face were visible, the eyes still staring into the void.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“It’s just that I’ve tried re-closing his eyes, and they don’t seem to want to stay shut.”

Beth returned to the mummy’s side and demonstrated for the others to see. She gently pushed the still-flexible eyelids down over the shining eyes. There they remained for half a second before snapping open again; revealing the black irises and the snowy white sclera beneath.

Frankenstein shuddered, but fought to hide it from the others. “That can happen sometimes,” he said, though he really didn’t know if that was true or not. “Just cover his face for now, Beth. He’s dead, so I’m sure he doesn’t mind.”

“What about the heartbeat?” Vinny asked.

“I don’t know… I don’t know about any of it anymore.”

He was tired. So tired. And hungry and confused and just so weary of having to always sound like he knew what he was talking about.

Jekyll, seeming as if he had read Frankenstein’s mind, took him by the arm and began leading him away from the dining room.

“It’s been a long night, and I think it’s just about coming to an end,” he was saying. “It’s just as Victor says. There’s no more we can do now. So we might as well go to bed. I’m willing to bet that’s where Dracula is right now.”

“I don’t know if I can sleep.” William said, sparing one last glance at the body before following the others out of the room.

“Want me to sing you a lullaby?”

“Thanks but no thanks, Vinny. I just don’t know if I can get to sleep knowing that that thing is in the house.”

“William! That’s not a very nice way to refer to Vlad.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Jekyll allowed Beth to take his place once they’d reached the staircase. She took her husband’s arm and began leading him up the stairs herself.

Victor stopped her on the landing and turned to look down at Jekyll. William and Vinny were already making their way upstairs as well, but Jekyll remained at the bottom, watching the others with a serious expression.

“Aren’t you going to sleep as well?”

“Oh no,” said Jekyll with a smile, “I was thinking of staying up a bit longer. Do some reading in the study maybe. I might find something useful, or it might just help me fall asleep.”

Frankenstein nodded. It seemed strange to him that Jekyll would be sending them off to bed while he stayed up. But then, hadn’t Jekyll been the last one to wake that day? He had some vague suspicions, but he was too exhausted to care. He turned away without another word.

“Are you alright, Victor?” Beth asked once they were in the privacy of their own room.

“No. I’m not alright. I feel sick.”

Beth was before him instantly, staring into his face and pressing her palm into his forehead to feel his temperature, her face the perfect picture of concern. Frankenstein smiled slightly and took her hand from his head, holding it in his grasp. He kissed her lightly on the side of her mouth, saying “It’s alright. I’ll feel better after I get some sleep. It’s only nerves.”

Beth tried to comfort him the best way she knew how, but Victor wasn’t in the mood. “Sleep… Just let me sleep,” he repeated. And so they did. He lay unmoving in Beth’s arms through what remained of the night. His stomach kept growling but he refused Beth’s offers to run to the kitchen to grab some leftovers. Had he remembered to eat anything that morning? None of the others had died so he supposed that meant the food wasn’t poisoned after all.

With these and other thoughts plaguing him, he didn’t fall asleep until morning. When he did finally sleep, he had nightmares. He dreamt that he was building the monster again, digging up fresh bodies from the soft earth. But he was not in a graveyard or mortuary; he was digging in the cellar of the castle. He dug and dug until blisters formed on his hands and burst, covering him in blood. But he ignored the pain and kept working, and when he finally hit a hard surface he found that it was the mummy’s sarcophagus. He lifted the clay lid himself and tossed it away. He began to unwrap the body again, slowly at first, then faster and faster until he was tearing at the linen, trying desperately to see the face underneath.

He feared it would be the monster. His monster. Already stitched together and staring at him with watery, yellow eyes. Eyes which would be full of hatred and vengeance against his maker for damning him to live a half-life without a soul.

But when he finally tore the wrapping away, he did not see the hideous face of the monster, nor did he see dark eyes of the mummy. He saw his own face, still as if in death. And he was pale, his eyes sunken into the flesh that began to wither and rot away even as he stared. Victor began to weep, reaching out to touch the face, as if with his hands he could stop the decay from spreading further. But he could not stop it.

He saw his own sunken eyes snap open, and they were as yellow and deranged as the monster’s had been.

Victor screamed.

It woke him, the sounds of his own screaming. Victor was alone in bed again. Beth was nowhere to be seen. He didn’t think of her at the moment. He thought only of the dream at first, and then he thought only of forgetting it had ever happened. He could see out the window that darkness had fallen again. Had he really slept through the whole day?

He didn’t wait for Beth to return to him. His stomach was howling with hunger. Since he hadn’t undressed the night before, he didn’t need to bother getting dressed now. He paused only long enough to push his hair from his face, straighten and re-roll the sleeves of his now very wrinkled dress shirt, and check his reflection in a cloudy, antique mirror.

His own blue eyes stared back at him. He thought he looked old.

Downstairs he could smell the food before he saw it. It seemed another delivery had arrived while he slept. Since the mummy was still laid out on the dining room table, he found everyone gathered in the kitchen. The counters had been freshly dusted off, either by Beth or their mystery host. Piled atop them were foods of the same fare they had seen the day before. Vinny and William were already helping themselves. It looked as if Jekyll had already eaten. Now he was simply looking from Victor to Dracula, as if expecting something to happen.

Dracula was there with the rest of them, leaning aloofly against one of the bare countertops. Of course, he was not taking any food, though he was smiling wide enough to show off his fangs.

Victor didn’t like it when he smiled.

“It’s seems we’re to have one meal a day, Victor,” Jekyll said. “You should eat something now.”

            “Beth will save what she can for us,” Victor said. He turned his attention toward the food in front of him and forced himself to eat slowly. It wouldn’t help to stuff his face and make himself sick after fasting. William and Vinny didn’t appear to be taking the same precautions.

He was just finishing a croissant when Dracula said, “There, he has eaten. You said once he’d eaten that I’d be able to show him.” He almost sounded cheerful.

Victor looked at Jekyll. “Show me what?”

Jekyll said nothing, but gave Dracula a nod.

Dracula continued to grin wickedly as he stepped away from the counter, revealing an antique medical bag accompanied by a set of modern surgical instruments.

Frankenstein felt as if his efforts to pace himself were going to go to waste after all. He felt like vomiting.

“They were here with the food this morning,” Dracula explained. “It would seem, Dr. Frankenstein, that our host would like to you continue your investigation.”


	9. Quality Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which William gets to know his roommates, and new things are learned about the mummy.

            William watched the color drain from Frankenstein’s face only to be replaced by a sickly green. Since that first night when Frankenstein had so cavalierly announced his true identity, William had assumed that he was the same mad scientist he had seen depicted in so many films. He had thought Dr. Frankenstein would be thrilled at this opportunity to once again cut into dead tissue and search for the secret of life within.

            But the expression on the doctor’s face was not one of excitement and eager anticipation. Had he shown signs of reluctance before? William wasn’t sure. It occurred to him suddenly that even if Frankenstein had shown signs of his true feelings, he probably would not have noticed. He had been too absorbed in his own personal hell. Feelings of sympathy mixed with the guilt of having been so self-centered.

            For Frankenstein, there was no hiding his emotions from anyone now. He was clearly distressed. He excused himself without a word, managing to maintain his composure until he had left the kitchen. As soon as he was in the hall, however, the others could clearly hear a deep groan.

            “Excuse us please,” said Beth. She had been flitting around the kitchen since the others first awoke, busying herself with various mundane tasks, but she had stopped when Frankenstein arrived. No doubt she, as his wife, knew he would be upset by this new discovery, but she hadn’t mentioned anything to the others. She smiled at them now, as calm as she ever was. “I’ll go have a word with Victor. Enjoy your breakfast and leave the rest to me.”

            She left without waiting for a response. In the quiet of the room her gentle voice could be heard cooing to Victor further down the hall.

            Jekyll sighed and rested his elbows on the table where he sat, lacing his fingers together and peering over the tops of them toward Dracula.

            “That was poorly done, and you know it.”

            Dracula was still grinning, exposing the full length of his white fangs. “What? You did say I would get to tell him. And I did. Now he is caught up with the rest of us. Where is the harm?”

            “I wouldn’t have let you say anything if I had known you were going to be so callous about it.”

            “Oh? And how were you planning to stop me?”

            Perhaps he meant to sound threatening, but his demeanor seemed more playful as he lifted himself onto the counter next to the medical bag, still smiling, and began to search its contents.

            “What are you so happy about?” William asked before he could stop himself. It had become his conviction to avoid drawing attention to himself at all costs while in the presence of the vampire. But he couldn’t fathom how the sullen Dracula could manage to look so gleeful while he felt so terrible.

            “You mean it is not obvious?” Dracula asked. “Y is telling us that he wants Frankenstein to perform this dissection. Why else would he leave these tools here? And just as Frankenstein has been telling us all along, if we do what Y wants, then he will let us all go. Now that we have the tools, Frankenstein does what he does best, and you can all leave me in peace. What is there to be unhappy about?”

            “Don’t be so sure that this is the only thing Y wants from us,” Jekyll said. “If a dissection was all that was called for, why couldn’t Y do it himself?”

            “Perhaps he lacks the skill or the medical knowledge.”

            “Fine. He could have someone – anyone – else do it for him.”

            “No way,” said Vinny, “If he went to a doctor or some sort of archeologist, the mummy would end up in a museum or something before anyone would cut him open.”

            “But you’ve raised another good point! Where did Mr. Y get this mummy to begin with?”

            William spoke up again. “Sorry but, is anyone going to ask the obvious question here? You know, like _why_ Victor is being asked to cut open a dead body to begin with?”

            “Mostly dead,” Vinny corrected. “Don’t forget about that heartbeat. Maybe Y has heard it too and wants to know more about what makes that heart tick.”

            “I really do not care about his motives at this point.” Dracula said. His words carried a weight of finality signaling that the conversation had reached an end. “I just want this over and done as soon as possible. Perhaps none of you have noticed, but while Mr. Y has so kindly supplied you with plenty to eat and drink, I have had to go two nights with nothing. My patience is at an end.”

            Jekyll stared at him as if there was more he wanted to say, but he relented, exhaling heavily and sitting back in his chair. “Fine. But mark my words; Y will expect something more from each of us before this is all over.”

            Victor chose this time to return, Beth close at his side. He looked tired and much older suddenly, but he seemed resigned. His voice was steady as he said, “I’ve decided that we should proceed. Let’s not put it off any longer.”

            “Excellent,” said Dracula, springing down from the countertop and gathering the instruments together. He pushed them into the black bag and thrust it toward Victor, nearly pushing the bundle directly into his chest. Victor’s arms remained at his sides.

            “You may hand those to Beth. She will be acting as my assistant in this matter.”

            Dracula’s eyes narrowed in suspicion as his gaze shifted to Beth. She looked back at him with an open, but firm countenance. “Your assistant?”

            “Yes. Beth will be… Beth will perform the procedure with my coaching and supervision. I can assure you she will do a fine job. You needn’t question her abilities.”

            “Frankenstein, you can’t be serious?” Jekyll said, rising now from his chair and looking at Beth with concern. William couldn’t help but share in Jekyll’s feeling. It was bad enough to see Beth take the reins when they unwrapped the mummy, but touching the body and cutting into it were two totally different things.

            But Beth was quick to interject, “I’ve performed duties like this many times. Victor has been training me. We always work together. Please don’t start doubting us now.”

            Once again Jekyll was compelled to cut off further objections with a heavy sigh. Shaking his head slowly, he ran a hand through his greying hair. “Alright. Do what you will. I’ll say nothing more. But I will insist that I be present for this… this…. Oh, I don’t know, _operation_.”

            Victor’s mouth twisted into an ironical smirk, “Don’t call it an operation, Dr. Jekyll. There’s no hope of saving any lives here. Call it an autopsy, if you must call it anything.”

            “As I said, have it your way. Do you have anything else to say, Vlad?”

            Dracula passed the bag to Beth, “Nothing. Just make it quick.”

            “Will you also be joining us, Will?” Beth asked sweetly. You would have thought she was suggesting that he join them all for Sunday morning tea.

            “No thanks. I think I’ll definitely pass on this one.”

            “Suit yourself!” said Vinny cheerfully, “I for one can’t wait to pop the hood and see what kind of engine we’ve got working in those old bones!”

            “Absolutely not,” said Jekyll. “Vinny, I am forbidding you to take part in this.”

            Vinny cried out in dismay, but Jekyll shouted over his protests, “At best you’ll be a distraction! And I don’t even want to think about the mischief you will do at your worst! You and William run off to play, and let the adults do their work!”

            Dracula must have shared his opinion, because he assisted Jekyll with shooing both William and Vinny down the hall as the others proceeded to the dining room to prepare for the ghastly procedure.

            Vinny continued to protest, finally shouting “Hyde would have let me watch!” at Jekyll’s back as he made his way back down the hall.

            “Hyde would have made you the experiment!” Jekyll shouted over his shoulder just as he disappeared into the dining room.

            William didn’t pay much attention to Vinny’s grumbling. He paced in front of the fireplace, wondering vaguely who took the time to build up yet another roaring blaze. Beth, perhaps? Or maybe this was another of Y’s courtesies, like their once-a-day feast. He didn’t think he’d ever seen this room without a fire in the hearth.

            In reality, he couldn’t care less about the fire, no matter how cheery a glow it cast in the vampire’s den. But pondering this one small mystery helped take his mind off the big picture, and it distracted him from having to imagine what the others must be doing at this very moment.

            “You ask me, I think our dear Dr. Jekyll has the hots for Frankenstein’s wife.”

            William halted mid-stride, “Excuse me?”

            “Come on. You don’t think he volunteered his services for Victor’s benefit, do you? He’s just showing off in front of the lady.”

            “Even if you’re right – and I’m not saying you are – I don’t really see what that has to do with anything.”

           “Nothing really. It’s just that I don’t understand why he should get to assist while I’m stuck in here with you. No offense.”

            “The feeling is mutual.”

            “I mean,” Vinny continued, ignoring William’s jab, “He’s a _chemist_ , for Christ’s sake. What’s he going to do to help? Whip up a nice cocktail for our mummified friend? Hey, if we’re lucky, maybe he’ll create a drink strong enough to split the mummy’s personality in two!”

            William wouldn’t admit it to Vinny, but he had sort of taken a liking to Dr. Jekyll. There was something kind of… _fatherly_ about him that William appreciated. Not that Dr. Jekyll was anything like his own father. He didn’t have nearly as many chins.

            Still, William didn’t like to see Jekyll insulted. It was with more than a little irritation that he said, “Well I don’t see how you would be of any more help. What would they do with an invisible mummy anyway? They kind of need to see him in order to cut him open.”

            “I happen to be an expert in human anatomy.”

            “I thought you said you were good with light and particles or something?”

            “Molecular chemistry and particle physics, actually. But I’m a man of many talents.”

            “Yeah? From what I’ve seen so far your only talent is being a real pain in the ass.”

            “That’s not true! I can also wiggle my ears!”

            William stared at the space above the shirt where Vinny’s head would be if it were visible. He tried to imagine what possible use an invisible man would have in wiggling ears that no one could see. Vinny wasn’t speaking either. Then, suddenly, they both burst out laughing.

            William was doubled over, holding his stomach and wondering just what the hell he found so funny in all this, but it felt good to laugh. Vinny was giggling so much he started to snort, and that only goaded them on to more fits of laughter.

            He finally caught his breath enough to gasp, “You are such a jackass!”

            Vinny’s laughter began to subside to a few chortles. While the light mood still hung in the air between them, he suddenly said, “Hey, Will. What do you suppose Y wants with that mummy anyway?”

            William thought about the conversation they had had in the kitchen not long ago and shook his head. “I really don’t know. I think Jekyll’s right about there being more to it, though. I don’t think we all just get to go home once Frankenstein and Beth are done with the mummy.”

            “Maybe not, but then maybe that’s more reason to consider what Y has planned for our freeze-dried friend.”

            Something about his tone of voice made William instinctively turn to face him, only to find that of course he could not make out the features of an invisible man.

            “What do you mean?”

            “Just that if we knew what Y’s motive was, we’d probably be able to guess who he is.”

            “You mean like… Who would benefit most from learning more about the mummy?”

            “There you go! Now you’re starting to think like a detective.”

            “But I’m not a detective.”

            “Yeah, well I’m no Sherlock Holmes myself. Say, do you suppose he was a real guy, too? Like Frankie and Vlad and Jekyll?”

            “Dunno. I guess he could have been. Stranger things have happened. Obviously.”

            William waved his hand lazily in Vinny’s direction, prompting a few more giggles from Vinny.

            “You know something, you’re all right Willie.”

            “Please. I can stand wolf-boy and all the other lame nicknames you’ve given me, but please don’t call me Willie.”

            “Fair enough.”

            Without further ado he began to remove his clothes, starting with the shirt that flew across the room to smack William in the face. William let the material fall to the floor and watched with some concern as the loosely fitting pants also fell to the ground.

            “Uh, Vinny? What the hell are you doing?”

            “What’s it look like?”

            “Well… You’ve taken off your clothes again… So it doesn’t really look like anything.”

            “Exactly! I’m going to sneak into the lab!”

            “Don’t!”

            “Why not? We’re never going to learn anything waiting in here for the rest of them!”

            “They’ll tell us what they found out as soon as they’re through! We just have to be patient.”

            “Yeah? And what if one of them is Y, huh? You don’t think he’d try to conceal something from us?”

            “Well, how do I know you’re not Y and you just want to sneak away to plant some other crazy thing around the castle?”

            “Elementary, my dear William! If I were Y, I wouldn’t let you know when I was sneaking around, would I? But you know my plan now, so that makes you a witness. Or even my accomplice!”

            “I’ll tell everyone what you’re up to.”

            “You wouldn’t really do that, would you?”

            William couldn’t think of what to say. Was it really such a bad idea to let Vinny have his way and spy on the others? He could always plead ignorance later if it became a problem. But he was still unsure if he could trust Vinny.

            He was spared having to respond to Vinny’s question. He felt rather than saw that the invisible man had left him alone without waiting for William’s answer.

            William, by himself now in the study, gathered up Vinny’s discarded clothing, wadded it into a ball, and briefly considered throwing them spitefully into the fire. He thought better of it when he remembered that the clothes had originally belonged to Dracula.

            As if sensing the train of his thoughts, the vampire in question sauntered into the room. William found himself hastily stuffing Vinny’s clothes out of sight under a pillow, though he wasn’t quite sure why he did so.

            “I thought you were observing the dissection?” he blurted in a poor attempt to cover his actions. Dracula quirked an eyebrow at him but otherwise did not comment on the quickly hidden clothing.

            “I was, but I was asked to leave. Where is Vinny?”

            “Oh, he’s right here,” William said with a touch too much haste. “He just… Took off all his clothes again. Said they were too restrictive. Something about disrupting his detective capabilities. I guess he’s supposed to think better when he’s in the nude?”

            It was one of William’s most lamentable qualities that he babbled like an idiot when he lied. But Vlad didn’t know that about him. The vampire sank into his much beloved armchair next to the fire. “Damn it, Vinny. If you insist on being such a complete ass, make sure you do so without placing _yours_ on my furniture.”

            William rested on top of the cushion concealing the clothes from view, even though there was no point in hiding them since he’d already admitted that Vinny had taken them off. He hardly knew what had led him to cover for Vinny, but he could just imagine what Dracula would do if he knew Vinny was wandering around his castle, taking advantage of his ability to spy on Beth and the others. It was probably better to spare Vinny his wrath, even if he did turn out to be Y.

            “So, why were you asked to leave?” William asked, feeling that he should fill the silence before Vlad could wonder why Vinny hadn’t responded to his comment.

            “Apparently my presence is too caustic to allow Frankenstein to concentrate.” He lifted his voice in a mocking tone meant to imitate Victor, “ _I cannot work under these conditions!”_

“He didn’t really say that, did he?”

            Dracula didn’t respond immediately. He had picked up the now familiar human skull from its last resting spot, and was quietly contemplating the small cracks on the cranial cavity.

            “Well, not in those exact words. But that was the gist of it. I was only making some suggestions on how to make the process go faster.”

            “Have they found anything yet?”

            “You could say that. At least we all know that we were not hearing things yesterday. The heart really is still beating.”

            William felt the hair on his arms and the back of his neck rise. The thought of their being some life left in that husk of a man gave him chills, but at the same time fascinated him. “How can that be possible?” he asked.

            Vlad shrugged. “I have no idea. Frankenstein keeps saying that is should be impossible, but I don’t think it’s so absurd. I myself have all of my organs, and no heartbeat. So why should not the mummy be missing a few, and have a still beating heart?”

            “Your heart doesn’t beat?” William was genuinely taken aback to hear that. Had he already known that about vampires?

            Vlad observed his surprise and offered him a questionable smile, “Would you like to listen for yourself?”

            William thought the prospect of getting close enough to Dracula to listen for his heartbeat was even creepier than the thought of the mummy having one. He was suddenly very aware that he was alone with the vampire, which was precisely the very situation he had been trying to avoid.

            “He doesn’t know,” William thought silently, “So long as he thinks Vinny is here, then I’m safe.”

            “Vinny’s not really here, is he?”

            The silence which followed lasted too long for William to respond naturally, but for a moment he couldn’t collect himself. Vlad’s sudden question aligned too perfectly with his own thoughts. It had caught him off guard.

            “No, he’s right here.”

            “Don’t lie to me a second time, boy. Where has he gone?”

            William was terrified, but he felt like he needed to stall somehow, both for his sake and Vinny’s.

            “Can all vampires read minds?”

            “What?”

            “You just read my mind didn’t you? That’s how you knew Vinny was gone. Can all vampires do it, or is it just you?”

            “I didn’t need to read anyone’s mind to see that you were lying. Besides, yours is the only presence I can sense in this room.”

            “Then… you can’t read minds?”

            Vlad fixed William with penetrating stare. “If I could read minds,” he said, “I would not need to ask you a second time where Vinny has gone. I could just as easily discern which one of you is Y, and be done with this whole business.”

            “Oh…”

            “… You are not truly going to make me ask again are you?”

            “Sorry, about what?”

            Vlad’s thick eyebrows arched high over his dark eyes in an expression of supreme wonder. He seemed genuinely impressed by William’s obtuseness.

            “Oh, you mean about Vinny. Like I said, he took his clothes off and wandered away. I don’t know where he’s gone.”

            Stalling had at least given William enough time to decide that it would be easier and more believable to simply plead ignorance. That should have been his plan from the beginning.

            “Did you try to stop him?”

            “How would I do that? You want me to tackle a naked invisible guy and wrestle him to the floor?”

            “Fair point.” Vlad conceded.

            “Did he just agree to something I said?” William wondered.

            “So… William. It occurs to me that we haven’t really had this opportunity to chat. Man to man.”

            This evening was starting to seem like one surprise after another. William was pretty certain this was the first time that Dracula had referred to him by name.

            “Did you have something you wanted to say to me, Vlad?” he asked, trying to mimic the vampire’s levity.

            “I was just wondering if we were ever going to see this spectacular transformation of yours.”

            “I’m hoping we won’t be stuck here long enough for that to become a possibility.”

            “You and me both. How long have you been a werewolf, then?”

            “Two months.”

            “Ah. So in that time you have only transformed twice?”

            “No. It’s been five times.”

            “Five?”

            “I transform on the full moon, but I also change the night before and the night after too. Last time I was able to resist it on the third night.”

            “Is that so? And how did you manage that?”

            William paused. Something about the persistence of Vlad’s questioning disturbed him. Was he… testing him? Did Vlad not believe that he was really a werewolf? Could he be thinking that he, William, was actually Y?

            “I don’t really know. How is it that you can change into a bat and a wolf?”

            “Hm… I suppose I just will it to be so, and it is.”

            “Then same for me I guess. I just really didn’t want to be a werewolf.”

            Vlad seemed interested in asking more, but just as he opened his mouth to speak, Victor and Beth entered the room, Jekyll following close behind.

            William breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh thank god!”

            Jekyll and Victor looked at him in some surprise. William stared back at them and felt himself blush with embarrassment. “Um, did I say that out loud?”

            Jekyll allowed himself a brief glance toward Dracula before smiling warmly at William to show that he understood. “You did,” he said with amusement, patting William on the shoulder and motioning toward Victor. “We have news to share, don’t we?”

            “Yes…” Victor said. William thought his eyes seemed more vacant than they had before as he looked slowly around the room. “But where is Vinny?”

            “Right here, folks!”

            William felt the pressure of a hand resting on his other shoulder and knew Vinny to be standing next to him. No doubt he had returned with the others without detection.

            “Naked again, I see?”

            “No, you don’t see. That’s the whole point.”

            Jekyll shook his head, “Vinny, we’ve gone over this before. Why have you taken your clothes off?”

            “It helps him think.” Vlad said, his eyes trained on William. William avoided his gaze.

            “Uh, yeah. What he said.” Vinny concurred. William shifted his weight and pulled Vinny’s clothes out from under the cushion. Vinny accepted the offering and began to clothe himself anew. Victor didn’t wait for any other cue to begin his summary of their research.

            “I suppose Vlad will have told you that the heart was still beating… But there are other strange features. We were able to confirm that the organs in the jars belong to the body, among them the liver, stomach, lungs, and intestines. The brain is also missing from the body, but as Vlad surmised, it was not preserved. As for the true age of the body, it is impossible to determine.”

            “Impossible?” asked William. “Why is it impossible?”

            “The bandages, sarcophagus, and the jars themselves all appear to be genuine artifacts, but frankly, the body is in too good a condition to be as ancient as its tomb. Even the organs in the jars appear to be fresh, and are not dried as I would expect them to be.”

            “So you are saying that someone when to great lengths to make a fresh body look like an ancient one?”

            “No… Or rather, I don’t know. There’s still one more thing that complicates matters.”

            “The heart?” William suggested.

            “No… The heart isn’t the only organ that seems to still support life. There was evidence in the other remaining tissues of cellular life, and when Beth made her incisions… The cuts began to heal almost instantly. It made things… rather difficult.”

            Beth rested a hand on Victor’s arm and nodded. “There were signs of internal healing as well, and even places where it seemed as if the body had tried to regrow the missing organs. But everything was incomplete.”

            “So… what does it all mean?” William asked.

            Jekyll sighed, “Without a brain it is certain that the body remains unconscious. But there does appear to be life at the cellular level. This man, whoever he was, must have had truly magnificent regenerative capabilities while he was alive.”

            “Not good enough to prevent him from dying,” Vlad said.

            “I don’t think he died from natural causes,” Jekyll said. “A man who would be able to heal that quickly from any wound would not simply perish from illness or accident.”

            Vinny gasped. “You don’t mean he was … murdered?!”

            William thought he sounded too pleased.

            “Not necessarily. He may have taken his own life. But in either case, I think his death, and the method for disemboweling the body, was all calculated by someone who knew of his abilities. He couldn’t have done it to himself, so it’s likely someone else was involved. Very likely, he was murdered.”

            “Frankenstein, this is your opinion as well?” Vlad asked.

            Victor nodded. He seemed tired. “It is exactly as Dr. Jekyll says. If he were still alive, he would have been a remarkable man.”

            “Can you really say that he’s truly dead?” Vlad asked.

            “What do you mean?”

           “Well, if his regenerative abilities are as you say, and that they continue to work even with the brain removed, couldn’t you in theory put a new brain inside him, let the cellular magic do its work, and bring him to life again?”

            Victor turned chalky pale. “What you are suggesting involves robbing another corpse, perhaps several, of their organs so that I might find compatible specimens to place in his body to support life.”

            “Well, you’re no stranger to grave robbing, are you doctor?”

            “… I have made the mistake of placing a man’s brain into a body of my own design before. I did not know what the results would be at the time, but he turned out to be a monster. Even if I could bring myself to commit the same sin a second time, it is certain that the man I would create would not be the same man he had been while living. He would have another person’s brain inside him, and he would likely turn out just like my last creation.”

            “Fine. I understand. You don’t want another monster on your hands.” Vlad said dismissively. “And personally, I’m not interested in having yet another whining beast under my roof. It was just a thought.”

            “More importantly,” Jekyll interrupted, “We still don’t know what this has to do with Y.”

            “You figure it out.” Vlad said, stretching his arms and lifting his pet skull above his head with one hand. “I can feel daylight approaching already. I will retire for now.”

            “That’s it?” Vinny asked, “No idle threats about how if we haven’t found a solution by next nightfall, you’ll kill one of us?”

            “I have learned not to expect much from any of you. Oddly enough, Beth has proven to be the most useful of you all. But I say to you, Vinny, if you step one foot into the cellar while I sleep, I will personally drain your corpse of every last drop of blood. Just see if I do not.”

            “Don’t bug you while you sleep. I got it. You don’t have to be such a jerk about it.”

             Vlad rolled his eyes, tucked the skull in the crook of his arm, and left the room without another word.

            “Is he going to sleep with it?” William wondered silently, then instantly put it form his mind. He didn’t want to think about it.

            “Then should we be getting to sleep, too?” Vinny suggested. “We’ve been at this all night.”

            Jekyll and Frankenstein exchanged glances, each of them shuffling their feet in nervous agitation. Victor looked at Beth imploringly, and she smiled at him in turn.

            “Actually,” she said, addressing William in particular, “We were hoping we could ask you both a few questions.”


	10. Questions Without Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which much is discussed, but no progress is made.

            _This sounds like an interrogation,_ William thought to himself. Sure, they were using Beth to ask the questions, no doubt thinking it would make William and Vinny more comfortable. But Frankenstein and Jekyll were hovering just behind her, watching intently.

            William was saved from having to respond right away by Vinny’s interjection.

            “So, what kind of questions did you have in mind? Hoping to hear more about my great grand-dad’s invisible legacy? Er, uh… His legacy of invisibility? No that’s not right either… That thing he passed down so’s I can be invisible.”

            William thought Vinny was lucky to be invisible so he could dodge the look of scorn the older men were sending his way. Beth smiled patiently, though her gaze remained fixed on William. She had the clearest blue eyes. And her hair, it looked so soft. _If she wasn’t a married woman…_

William quickly shook the thought from his mind. Beth was speaking to him again, and he knew he’d have to stay sharp and focused for whatever they were asking of him.

            “William, we were hoping you could tell us more about… Well, about before you came here.”

            “My great grand-dad didn’t leave me any legacy.” William blurted stupidly. _Well, so much for staying sharp._

“No, not about your family. We just wondered if you could tell us about the time you were bitten?”

            _They think I’m lying._ “What is it you want to know?”

            “You said you became a werewolf two months ago, after being bitten by what you thought was a bear. Where exactly did that happen?”

            “Germany.”

            “Can you be more precise?”

            “Um… I don’t really know. Somewhere in the Black Forest?”

            “What were you all doing in there?” Jekyll asked in amazement, though William didn’t understand why he should look so shocked.

            “Well, there’s trails and stuff, right? People go on hikes and ride bikes and that sort of thing. We were _sightseeing_.”

            “Bit different from our day, eh Dr. Jekyll?” Frankenstein said laughingly. Dr. Jekyll did not look amused.

            “I really don’t know what you’re talking about, Frankenstein. I’ve never been to the Black Forest. I’m just not sure what a bunch of American boys like William and his friends were doing in a place like a German fairy forest to begin with.”

            “OK – first of all,” said William haughtily, “You guys need to stop it with this ‘boy’ stuff. I’m twenty-two. Secondly, what do you mean ‘fairy forest?’ Are there actual fairies in there? Like with wings and everything?”

            “He means like fairytales,” Frankenstein said, still with a grin on his face. He was looking more like his usual self than he had since the mummy was first unwrapped. “Everyone knows that the Black Forest served as inspiration for a lot of the Grimm brother’s fairytales.”

            “And I am one hundred and eighty years old,” Jekyll said, “I’m guessing Frankenstein’s age is about the same. If we say you’re a boy, then you’re a boy. The same goes for Vinny, so don’t take it personally.”

            “Hey! I’m invisible! There’s no way you can know how told I am!”

            “Are you one hundred and eighty?”

            “No.”

            “Then shut up.”

            “Gentlemen, please. I think we’ve drifted a little off topic,” Beth said pleadingly. William was surprised to see Jekyll and Frankenstein both look property chastised. Even Vinny refrained from providing a retort. Beth glanced at the others to be sure that they had no intention of producing further interruptions, then she fixed William with her cool blue gaze once again.

            “William, did you meet anyone while you were traveling through the forest?”

            “We met lots of people.”

            “Sightseers, like yourself?”

            “Yeah, mostly. Some locals.”

            “You spoke with them?”

            “Sure. Lots of people speak English, which is great, because none of us speak any languages… Well, I mean we speak English, but that’s…” he glanced up at Beth. She was still watching him patiently, smiling slightly. But the smile seemed frozen in place, as if she was forcing it to stay there. He cleared his throat and continued, “Anyway, yeah, we talked to a lot of people, but that was all before I was attacked.”

            “Did any of the people who spoke to you stand out at all?”

            Vinny suddenly groaned. William jumped in surprise. He had been so intent on speaking to Beth that he nearly forgot about the invisible man.

            “Is there a point to this line of questioning?!” Vinny cried.

            It was Frankenstein who said, “We’re just trying to figure out if there’s some common link between us all. Maybe it’s someone we all have met before or some information that was passed along. William has had his condition for a much shorter time than all of us, and yet someone knew to invite him here. We thought that if there was any clue as to who Y is and how he knows about us, William here might have it.”

            “So… you guys really believe me when I said that I’m a werewolf?”

            This time it was Jekyll’s turn to speak. “Yes of course, William. Why should we have any reason to doubt you?”

            “Well… It’s just that none of you have seen me transform or anything… And I’m the only one here who’s not very useful…”

            “Don’t be ridiculous, Will,” Jekyll said, closing the distance between them and resting a hand on William’s shoulder. He looked down at him fondly. “Vinny is every bit as useless as you are.”

            “… Thanks… I guess.”

            “Why am I getting so much flak from you, Jekky?”

            “Because you annoy me.”

            Frankenstein interrupted them with a sigh. He rolled his eyes. “Perhaps we can get back to the matter at hand? William… Will, if I may?”

            “Sure, go ahead.”

            “Will, did anyone stand out to you? Maybe someone who followed you and your friends into the forest?”

            “Well, there was this one guy. British, I think. He had an accent like Dr. Jekyll’s, but less… refined? We met him at a bar in this little town before we went to the Black Forest. We all got pretty drunk that night, honestly. We talked about our plans with him, but he didn’t follow us or say anything strange that I can remember.”

            “Can you describe him?”

            “Um… Short. With black hair and tan skin. About my age, I guess. But he was alright. I don’t think he has anything to do with me getting bit by a werewolf.”

            Frankenstein glanced at Jekyll, “It doesn’t sound like anyone I know. You?”

            “No. And I’m practically a recluse these days. That doesn’t sound like any one of few my acquaintances. Vinny?”

            “Uh, it’s kind of a vague description actually. Did this guy have a name?”

            William shook his head. He couldn’t remember.

            Victor sighed, “It’s alright. That’s probably not our lead.”

            “Um… What about Beth?” asked William.

            “She knows who I know,” he said dismissively. William thought this was rude, but Beth didn’t correct him.

            Instead, she just continued with her questioning, “What about when you were in the forest, Will? What happened after you were attacked by the wolf?”

            William tried to ignore the fluttering of his heart when he heard Beth adopt Frankenstein’s familiar way of addressing him, but he could feel the blood rising to his face. He coughed to hide his embarrassment. “Um, well… It happened kind of fast. Like I said, my friends sort of scared it off. I didn’t see where it went. We left the woods right away and I patched myself up as best as I could back at the hostel. It healed pretty fast, which was surprising. Then about a month later, when we had moved on to Austria, I changed.”

            “Was anyone with you at the time?”

            “No… I had started to feel… I don’t know, kind of sick, I guess. Just… Not right. I felt like I needed to get away from the guys for a while, so I told them I felt like a walk. They must have known something was up with me, because they didn’t argue when I said I wanted to be alone. It was the night just before the full moon… Luckily, no one was around, otherwise…”

            He trailed off, thinking of the memory of that first horrid transformation. The next two nights had not been any easier.

            He wasn’t given long to dwell on these thoughts. The feeling of Beth’s cool hand resting on his own snapped him back to the present. He looked up into her eyes once again, and this time her smile seemed warm and genuine.  
            “Will, when did you get the letter?”

            “Huh?”

            “The letter from Y. The one that promised to cure your lycanthropy.”

            “Oh… That was about a week ago.”

            “ _A week_?” Frankenstein and Jekyll hissed in unison.

            “Yeah. I had been pretty lost until that point. I didn’t know who I could go to for answers, and I was constantly worried in case someone found out, or worse, thought I was crazy. Then I found the letter. It had been folded and placed in one of the pockets of my backpack. I don’t even know how long it had been there.”

            Frankenstein and Jekyll both let out heavy sighs. William found himself lamenting that he couldn’t tell them more. We wracked his brains, trying to figure out who, if anyone, could have witnessed his transformation, followed him, and left that letter without him ever noticing. But he couldn’t think of anything. To him, it all still seemed impossible.

            “Well, doctor,” Frankenstein said, finally taking a seat on one of the old sofas, “What do you think?”

            Jekyll did not immediately reply. When he did speak, he had seemed to come to some sort of resolution. “We cannot rule out the possibly that Hyde is somehow involved in this,” he said in steady, decisive tones.

            William was surprised. He hadn’t expected Jekyll to implicate himself – or at least his alter-ego – as the culprit behind their imprisonment. But one glance at Frankenstein showed him that the other doctor had expected this statement from Jekyll. He was nodding his head in agreement.

            Jekyll seemed to notice William’s look of surprise, and started to explain, “I… Don’t always remember what happens when I become Hyde. Actually, I stopped remembering anything that happened while Hyde was active years ago. You could say that he and I are completely different people now. We share a brain and a body, but our motivations, our thoughts… It’s impossible for me to know what drives Hyde now when I can’t remember anything about him. I only know what I’ve seen from the havoc he leaves behind.”

            “So if you can’t remember… Then you’re saying Hyde could have planned all of this without your knowledge?”

            “I’m saying it’s possible. After all, I was brought here by a letter left by Hyde, and I can’t fathom what would have tempted him here in the first place, unless it was his own idea. But then, I also don’t know how he could have found all of you without my finding out. This sort of planning would take time. I may not remember what he does but I am aware of the gaps in my memory. I know when I have been Hyde by the days, weeks that I have lost. But there haven’t been significant lapses of time like that recently. In fact, I have been myself for a fairly lengthy period, the morning I woke in the car being one exception.”

          “Perhaps that was part of his plan as well,” Frankenstein suggested, “To lull you into a false sense of control.”

            Jekyll shrugged, but to William he looked unconvinced. “There is another problem with the theory that Hyde is Y. In the beginning I could change into Hyde for a few brief hours at a time, and return to myself. But over the years the length of time between transformations has increased, as if Hyde became reluctant to let me take over while he was having so much _fun_. Now when Hyde takes over, he typically remains for several days at a time before I regain consciousness. If he is the person delivering the materials that arrive during the day, then he would need to change back and forth during a very brief period of time. I myself can’t control the transformations with any sort of precision.”

            “You’re saying he’s not capable of it?” asked Beth.

            But Jekyll shook his head. “I’m saying he wouldn’t want to. I don’t think he would want to give up his turn with our body so easily. And I know his tricks. Imprisoning people like this is not one of them.”

            There was a pause as everyone processed this new information. This was the most Jekyll had revealed to the others about Hyde. William got the impression that he didn’t like to talk about his alter-ego, and that explaining this all to them now was taking a huge amount of willpower.

            Frankenstein broke the silence. “You said we couldn’t rule him out.”

            It was a statement, not a question. His tone bordered somewhere between observation and accusation. William looked to see how Jekyll would respond.

            “… I know. It all comes down to what I can… or rather what I _can’t_ remember. It could be that… Well, it’s like this. If I were asleep during a transformation, then Hyde could spend the hours in which all of us are sleeping to do… Whatever it is that he does. Now let’s assume that he can change back at will. Then he changes back to me, and I wake up. Of course, I have no knowledge of his actions.”

            “And so you would have no idea that you’d even become Hyde.” Frankenstein concluded. “You would have thought you just slept through the night.”

            “Correct. I’ve tried staying awake to see if it makes a difference, but I couldn’t do it. I feel asleep. But like I said, there are a lot of reasons to doubt that Hyde could pull this off on his own. For example, how can he be doing all of this without knowing the area?”

            “A two man job?” William asked.

            “Yes, Will. If we assume that Hyde is involved, we can definitely state that he is not acting alone.”

            “Alright. So is it Hyde for sure, then?” Vinny asked. He seemed impatient. William wondered if he was getting anxious having not had his share in the conversation for so long. He always seemed to want to be the center of attention.

            “I don’t think Hyde is Y,” Jekyll stated, “But there’s a good chance he’s involved. Maybe taking orders from someone.”

            “But is Hyde the sort of person who’s good at following orders?”

            Jekyll looked irritated, though for once, not because of Vinny. He glared at the fire, perhaps recalling some memory from his past. “Not in my experience,” he said.

* * *

 

            William lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The castle was completely silent. He could tell the others had gone to bed ages ago. He was tired, too. Exhausted actually. But his thoughts were still racing.

            He couldn’t get what Frankenstein had said out of his mind. It was true that out of all of them, his condition was the most recent. And still, Y had found him. So it had to be someone he met in the last two – no three months. Three months since he’d been bitten. Could he really have the key to Y’s identity? If only he could remember!

            William sighed heavily, emitting a sound that was more of a grunt as he rolled over onto his side. He knew he should try to sleep, but he kept thinking about their conversation over and over again. There had to be some clue hidden in his memories. Could it have been the guy in the bar? The English man. What had his name been? Will was almost too drunk to remember his own name when they had met. He thought it has started with a G. Graham… Griffin… Griffith?

            His door swung open without a sound. William didn’t see anyone moving into the room from the dim light of the hall, but he could hear footsteps creeping toward his bed.

            “Psst!” he heard a voice hiss close by him, “Willy! Are you still awake?”

            “What do you want, Vinny?” He didn’t even bother to ask about his lack of clothing this time.

            “Oh good. I wanted to tell you something. They don’t think it’s you.”

            “They don’t think what’s me?”

            “They don’t think you’re Y.”

            “Oh… Well that’s good, I guess. Because I’m not.”

            He knew that he sounded bored, but in truth he did feel slightly relieved. After all, if some stranger had approached him a few months ago claiming to be a werewolf needing assistance, he definitely would have thought that person was lying or crazy. And given their current situation, it would be easy for the others to doubt him. And he couldn’t even prove he was really a werewolf. They had never seen him transform.

            But then he remembered Jekyll’s reassurance, and Beth’s warm smile. Could it be that they really didn’t suspect him?

            “Aren’t you going to ask who they _do_ suspect?”

            “Vinny, we’ve been talking about this for hours. It’s Hyde.”

            “No, Will! The second man! Hyde’s partner in crime! Will, _they think it’s Vlad_!”

            In spite of his fatigue, William sat up in bed. He couldn’t tell where Vinny was standing, but his astonished gaze swept around the room, all the same.

            “Dracula! But how to do you know?”

            “That’s what they were talking about when I went to spy on them earlier. Remember how they kicked Dracula out of the dissection room? It was just an excuse so they could talk about their suspicions. They think he might be Y! So I was right! Remember, Will? I told you something was fishy about him! I mean, if you really think about it, it makes total sense. It’s his castle, and we’re all trapped inside it. And the mummy’s coffin being found right next to his. Are we really supposed to believe he has no idea how it got there? And just look how excited he was to have Frankenstein do this whole dissection thing! Everything is going according to his plan!”

            “But… Why? I mean, why bring us all here to dissect a mummy? If that’s all he wants, then why invite me here? Why invite you?”

            “Oh well, I haven’t figured that part out yet. But I will.”

            William flopped back down onto the narrow bed. “I can’t think about this anymore, Vinny! I need to get some sleep.”

            “Oh, well. OK.”

            William resolutely shut his eyes, determined to put all thoughts of Y and vampires and invisible men from his mind. He listened for the sound of Vinny leaving the room and heard the tell-tale footsteps retreating back to the door. They paused at the threshold.

            “Oh, and I think I’ve got Beth figured out.”

            William checked himself before opening his eyes again. He didn’t want to appear too interested in things concerning Beth. Still, he had to ask. “What are you talking about?”

            “She’s a witch. She’s gotta be. It’s the only way that being married to Frankenstein makes sense. She’s like, a voodoo priestess or something and so they have a common interest in, like, zombies or whatever. Definitely a witch.”

            “She’s not a witch, Vinny.”

            “But we’ve already got a werewolf, a vampire, two mad scientists – well three if you count myself – and even a mummy! A witch is the only thing that’s missing.”

            “What about the swamp monster?”

            “Will! That is no way to talk about Beth.”

            “I wasn’t –!” William started to yell, but he stopped himself. He didn’t want to wake any of the others. If they were fortunate enough to be asleep, he didn’t want to disturb them.

            “Vinny,” he said more quietly, “I’m going to sleep now.”

            “Alright, fine. I get it. It’s beddy-bye time. I’m going.”

            William grunted and rolled onto the other side, his face toward the wall and his back to the door. Vinny really did leave, it seemed, but just before he heard the door swing shut, he could have sworn he heard Vinny mutter, “If she’s not a witch, then how has she managed to bewitch all of you?”


	11. Husband and Wife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Frankenstein's past prevents the future of others.

             The moon was a white, shining wedge in the sky. Victor could see it from his window. It was the first night since he had been married to Beth that he was awake before her. It was possible that the change from waking by day to waking by night had confused her he thought, even as he knew that wasn’t the case. The truth was that he was awake before Beth because he hadn’t slept at all.

            Victor stretched his arm before him and closed one eye. He covered the moon with his thumbnail, trying to picture the way it looked when they had first arrived. He thought it had been larger that first night, though it had been difficult to see the moon during the thunderstorm. He seemed to remember sometimes catching a glimpse of it through the trees whenever the glowing orb broke though cloud cover.

            Moon is on the wane, he thought. Good news for the werewolf. But then he started second guessing himself. He might be imagining what the moon had looked like that first night. After all, he hadn’t really been paying attention.

            Victor thought through those early moments again and again, searching for a clue that could lead him to Y. This would be the fourth night that they had been imprisoned in the castle. Four nights, three days. Why did it feel like so much longer?

            On the bed behind him, Beth awakened. He could feel her gently rising from the bed, the covers pulling away from him slightly as she shifted position. He didn’t turn his head. He wasn’t sure what expression his face was making at the moment, but he was sure that if he turned, she would see something she didn’t like.

            “Victor?” she asked quietly, “Didn’t you get any sleep?”

            Victor smiled. She knew him so well. He composed his features as best he could, then glanced over his shoulder at her.

            “No. I was thinking.”

            “Did you hear anything last night?”

            He thought this was an odd question to ask so suddenly, but then he realized she must think a noise had kept him awake. Perhaps she suspected that he had heard the sound of their mysterious host coming and going while the rest slept the day away. He shook his head. He hadn’t heard anything all night but the sound of his own quiet breathing.

            “Did you?” he asked in return.

            “No.”

            “Oh.”

            “Perhaps nobody came?”

            Victor sighed. He stood up and began pulling on his clothes. He was starting to resent the starchy, now wrinkled evening wear. He looked even more disheveled than he felt.

            “Well, I hope somebody did. Only one meal a day? A person can’t survive on that forever. And between you and me, I’m getting a little tired of all this breakfast fare. When we get out of here, I’m treating us to a nice steak and potatoes dinner. Maybe a roast goose.”

            “If we get out of here.” Beth commented.

            Victor paused and looked at her. She was gathering up her evening gown from where she’d laid it across the back of a chair. By now it too was looking a little worse for wear. She would not meet his eye. He finished rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and walked slowly toward her, pulling the dress from her hands and laying it back on the chair. He grasped both her hands in his own.

            “Beth,” he said, her name a plea for her to look at him to which she complied. “I will get us out of here. Whatever it takes.”

            She watched his expression carefully, her own face an unreadable mask. She was beautiful, but sometimes even Victor thought it was a cold sort of beauty.

            “I know that you will try, Victor,” she said after a few minutes that lasted hours. “But you haven’t been yourself since we got here. I worry.”

            “That’s because out there I can be Vincent Frank,” Victor said, smiling at the sound of his old alias, “Here I must be Victor Frankenstein.”

            “You’ve always been Victor Frankenstein to me.”

            He raised one of her hands to his lips in a chaste kiss. “Yes,” he whispered against her flesh. “I suppose that’s true.”

            He pulled away from her then, turning his back and walking toward the window. “What’s say we do go downstairs? It would be worth it to see if our host did condescend to grace us with another meal.”

            Beth made a slight sound of acknowledgement. He could hear the faint rustle of fabric telling him that she was pulling on her gown. She asked, “What were you thinking about while you weren’t sleeping?”

            Victor thought of the million and one things that had rushed through his mind over the course of the preceding day. He mentioned none of them. Instead, he said, “I was thinking about the moon.”

            “The moon, dearest?”

            “Yes,” he said, staring up at the wedge in the sky. Definitely waning. “I was worried about our young werewolf. I hope we are able to fulfill Mr. Y’s wishes before his next transformation.”

            “He’s a good boy,” Beth said without feeling, as if it was just something to say. “Victor, about this dress.”

            Victor turned, thinking she would ask him to zip up the back, but she was already dressed. It was in terrible shape, but he smiled at her and said “you look great” all the same.

            “No, Victor. I wonder if I can find some scissors to hem it. A needle and thread might be too much to ask for, but I could at least make it shorter. It would be more practical.”

            “Can’t you just bustle it like you’ve been doing?”

            Beth said nothing. She just looked at him. He stared back at her patient expression and then looked down at the cream-colored gown. It had started to turn brown and grey at the hem from picking up dust.

            “Alright, do what you will,” he said. “I’ll buy you a new dress when we get out of here.”

            She didn’t respond. She merely bustled the dress again and sailed out of the room, presumably on a quest to find a pair of scissors. Victor knew that she really didn’t care about the dress, and that she wouldn’t care if she had another one. But he liked promising her things. He liked thinking about the things he would do for her when he was a free man again.

            Victor followed Beth from the room and down the stairs. He had a bad feeling about tonight, but he had not shared it with Beth. He didn’t want her worrying about him more than she already did. But there was a pattern developing over the course of the past three nights, and he had a very strong idea about what new developments night four would bring.

He wouldn’t allow himself to put his suspicions into words, not even in his own thoughts. He was afraid to admit it to himself. But all the same, he knew what was coming. He knew, because it was inevitable. And yet he walked straight past the dining room – the room which recently had become a sort of laboratory to host the dreaded mummy – and into the kitchen. As usual, the customary breakfast fare was spread across the table. Frankenstein thought there was considerably less than had been brought before. Perhaps Y knew that Beth was storing leftovers?

            We can’t live on one meal a day, Victor thought a second time.

            William was the only one present. He had filled a plate with foods high in carbs and protein, but he was barely picking it. He seemed to have lost his enthusiasm for eating.

            “Morning… Er, evening,” he said with a nod to them both.

            “Morning,” Victor said, not bothering to correct himself. “Is it just you that’s awake, then?”        

            “No. Jekyll was here, but he’s in with the mummy now. Think he wanted to have a second look. I don’t think he got any sleep last night.”

            “That makes two of us. What about Vinny?”

            “Haven’t seen him,” said William, then he groaned at his own unintended joke, “I mean I don’t think he’s up yet.”

            “Well, hopefully he’ll put something on before he graces us with his presence,” Victor said, rolling his eyes. “It’s unnerving, isn’t it? The thought that someone could be hanging around, listening to you, and all while you not knowing that someone is there.”

            William shrugged and nibbled a piece of toast. “It’s no different from Y, if you ask me. He’s probably watching us too.”

            Victor didn’t say anything. To him, Vinny was a very suspicious character from the start. As far as he was concerned, Vinny and Y could be the same person. But he couldn’t say anything to William. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the boy, or thought he was somehow involved in the plot against him. But he couldn’t with whom the boy’s loyalties were kept.

            “I think I might as well go join Dr. Jekyll. I don’t feel hungry anyway. Are you coming?”

            Victor didn’t know how to respond to the sudden question. He didn’t relish the idea of returning to the makeshift lab, confronting that horrid body once again. He still would not acknowledge this own thoughts of what he suspected he would find in that room.

            Maybe if he had admitted it to himself, he would never have agreed to accompany William. Or maybe he would. What else could he have done in that situation? It was a trial he would have to face, sooner or later.

            Silent, the two of them wandered down the hall. Beth had disappeared, but Victor wasn’t concerned about her. He kept his eyes forward and tried not to think about anything.

            The dining room doors stood open. William walked through first, though Frankenstein saw him balk at the sight of Vlad, fresh from his coffin-enclosed slumber. But he was braver about facing his fears than Victor, and he continued to stride boldly into the room with barely a pause.

            Dracula and Jekyll were standing close together, apparently in deep conversation. Frankenstein thought they looked like a pair of conspirators. They both turned at the sound of William and Victor’s entrance. Dracula had a grim smirk on his face that did not bode well. Jekyll looked guilty. Victor watched as he attempted to shield something sitting on the sideboard from view, but he already caught a glimpse of glass jars and he knew. He knew that Y had brought them more than breakfast. He knew for certain what he had been trying not to think about all night.

            “What’s going on?” Victor asked as if it was a line he was required to recite before the scene of a play could continue. His voice sounded steadier than he expected, a trained actor on a stage.

            “I am going to tell him,” Dracula said with sadistic glee.

            Jekyll glared at him, “No, you are not.”

            “Y has brought you a gift, doctor.” Dracula said, ignoring Jekyll. “I suppose you were right when you said you would eventually serve a purpose.”

            Frankenstein chose to overlook the vampire’s comment. For as little as he trusted his other housemates, he trusted that his fellow scientist would at least attempt to break the news gently.

“Jekyll?”

            He provided an explanation quickly, as if to prevent Vlad from causing any more mischief, “Y wants you to reanimate the corpse.”

            Frankenstein’s blood turned to ice in his veins, and still he remained calm. There was not even a tremor to his voice when he asked, “And how do we know that this is his intention? I suppose he left a note?”

            “No, nothing like that. I’m afraid it’s much worse.”

            “He’s brought you fresh organs, doctor,” Vlad said helpfully. “He’s saved you the exertion of grave-digging this time.”

            Victor could sense that William was moving somewhere to his left, but he didn’t feel like he could turn his head to look at him. The world was still for now, but he knew that soon it would start spinning again, and he didn’t think he could keep up. He wished Beth would come back from wherever she had wandered.

            He flinched as William lightly tapped his shoulder. He had dragged one of the dining room chairs directly behind his knees.

            “You look like you’re about to pass out,” said the boy quietly. Frankenstein sat down slowly, instigating the spinning room sensation he had been dreading. Emotionally, he felt nothing. Is this what it was like to be in shock?

            “Victor,” Jekyll was saying gently, “There are organs here for everything that was taken from the mummy. Stomach, liver… A brain.”

            “A brain!” Frankenstein said with a gasp, “Yes, of course, they would need to replace the brain that was thrown out wouldn’t they? And have any of you wondered yet who that brain belongs to?”

            “It will belong to this man,” Dracula said, pointing to the semi-lifeless corpse laid out under a sheet, “As soon as you put it back in for him.”

           “No, no! Don’t you see? A brain does not keep itself! It’s nothing but mush before it’s treated and preserved. Someone kept the brain safe. Cared for it. Selected it with a purpose.” His thoughts flashed back to his own careful selections, made so many years ago for a similar purpose. He tried to put the painful memories from mind.

“We must ask ourselves who this brain belongs to.” He continued, mimicking Dracula’s gesture by thrusting an accusing finger at the mummy. “If I put that brain into that body, he will not be whatever man he once was. God, we don’t know who he’d be! But not the man he was… No, probably not even the man who once possessed the brain…”

            Was he rambling? It was possible. Shock was slowly dissipating. It was quickly replaced with panic. What was it they were asking him to do? Did they expect him to repeat the mistakes of his past?

            “I will not create another monster.”

            “Victor, look at me.”

            He became aware that his head was bowed. He was clutching his hair tightly between his fingers. He no longer felt cold, in fact, his face felt very warm. He tilted his head up slowly and took in the figure of Jekyll, kneeling on one knee before him. William was still standing on his left, radiating concern. Vlad leaned on the sideboard behind Jekyll. He was no longer smiling. Sitting on the table next to him were those glass jars. He could see them clearly now, their bloodless organs suspended in a clear solution. And sure enough, there was a perfectly preserved brain.

            “Victor,” Jekyll repeated, drawing Frankenstein’s attention back to him. “We need you to do this.”

            “Why?” he whispered, his voice very small.

            “Because this is what Y wants. It’s the only way we can get out of here.”

            “No… but _why_? Why would he ask me to do this?”

            “You’ve done it before, haven’t you?” asked Dracula.

            “And at what cost? If Y knows what I am capable of, then surely he knows what the monster I made…” his gaze drifted toward the inert body on the table and he shuddered involuntarily.

            “Victor is right,” William said, “We need to seriously start thinking about what Y stands to gain from all of this.”

            Dracula rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, “We’ve been over this before. We’re still no closer to discovering who he is.”

            “Maybe that’s because we’ve been asking the wrong question,” William suggested, “We’ve spent this long trying to think of connections between us or locate hidden doors. Maybe we should be thinking about Y’s motive. If we could figure out what Y wants and… well _why_ , then that should give us a clue as to his identity, right?”

            Jekyll nodded, still crouched in front of Victor on the floor. “I see what you’re saying. If we can establish who has the most to gain from reanimating this man, then we’ll know who Y must be.”

            “The mummy has the most to gain,” Dracula said sneeringly. “And he doesn’t look in any state to be sending out invitations.”

            “Well, I disagree,” said William, “Like Victor said, it won’t be the same man since it’s not the same brain.”

            “Whose brain is it?” Frankenstein asked again.

            “I don’t give a damn whose brain it is!” Dracula shouted suddenly, making the other three jump. He crossed the room in the blink of an eye, pushed Jekyll aside, and pulled Victor to his feet by the collar of his shirt. He was taller than Victor was, though he held him up at eye level. Victor’s toes skimmed the floor.

            “You said we would have to do as Y said,” he hissed into Victor’s face. William and Jekyll were attempting to separate them, but Vlad was oblivious to them. “You said we all play a part in this. And now you want to back out because it’s inconvenient for you? _Fuck you._ If you won’t do your job, then there’s no reason I shouldn’t drain every drop of blood from your body.”

            He released Victor, who was caught by both William and Jekyll before he could crumple to the ground. Vlad had wrapped his hand around his shirt so tight he had started to choke, now he gasped for breath as he said, “It won’t work! I don’t have any of the tools I used on the monster before! All of my research… the machines… I can’t do it here!”

            But even with this excuse, Vlad was undaunted. He picked up one of the scalpels used during their dissection the previous evening and walked with determination over to the mummy’s body. With a quick flick of his hand the sheet flew to the floor, revealing the entirely of the emaciated form. He lifted the small, sharp knife, and cut deep into one of the arms. Within seconds, the wound had healed.

            “There, you see? You won’t have to worry about the old ways. This man’s body will see to it that any changes you make will heal themselves. He just needs someone skilled to put the pieces back in. Surely you can manage that much?”

            “I can’t…” Frankenstein moaned. He kept repeating himself, the moan rapidly morphing into screams, “I can’t I can’t I CAN’T.”

            Dracula threw the scalpel onto the table where it fell with a loud clatter. “THEN YOU WILL BE THE DESTRUCTION OF EVERYONE IN THIS HOUSE,” his voice came down like thunder. Victor was surprised he didn’t feel the room shake.

The vampire stormed out right after that, apparently too overcome with anger to remain with them a second longer. Even in his agony, Frankenstein could tell that Jekyll and William were relieved by his absence. If he had remained, it was likely someone other than Victor would be hurt.

            “I am sorry. I am so, so sorry.” Victor muttered, sinking into the chair again. He wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for.

            Jekyll rested a hand on his shoulder and sighed. “You don’t have to apologize, Victor. If someone had ordered me to recreate Hyde in another person, I probably would have reacted just as you did.”

            He paused for a moment, allowing those words to sink in, or perhaps just allowing Victor to process everything that had happened. Then he continued, “Dracula is an ass. I think we can all agree on that. It’s unpleasant work, but the only choice we have right now is to move forward. Until we know more, we must comply with Y’s wishes.”

            “Maybe not.”

            Jekyll and Frankenstein looked at William. Jekyll was merely surprised, but Frankenstein was looking to him as a lifeline. William supported him against Dracula. He had thought of a new key to discovering Y’s identity. Did he now have some idea which would save Frankenstein from damning his sanity a second time?

            “Well… It’s like this. I haven’t been sneaking out and bringing this stuff here during the day. Victor, I think it’s pretty safe to say that you and Beth haven’t either. And Dr. Jekyll… Well, I think we can trust you as well. Why can’t we just set a trap?”

            “Trap?” Jekyll asked.

            “Yeah, like we did before when we searched the castle for secret passage. Only this time, we stake out the place and wait for someone to make a delivery.”

            “I’ve tried that before, just to see if maybe it was Hyde,” Jekyll said, “But I feel asleep before daybreak.”

            “There will be three of us. We can sleep in shifts, or we can keep each other awake.”

            “It seems too simple to work,” Jekyll said. William and Frankenstein stared at him mournfully. Jekyll sighed, “Alright. We should at least try. We’ll wait for Y together.”

            Frankenstein sank back into the chair and stared at the ground again. He felt relieved, but not happy. He would wait with the others, if only for something to do besides think about the mummy. He knew there was no way he was going to get any sleep anyway, not with knowing about the brain swimming around in a jar.

            “Hey!” called a voice suddenly from the doorway. It was Vinny, fully clothed but as usual only partly visible for that reason. He raised a ghost-hand in the air in a friendly wave, “What did I miss?”


	12. The Woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Vlad discovers something odd about Victor's wife, and the art of hieroglyphics is scorned.

            There was something wrong with the woman.

            Vlad sat brooding in his chair by the fireside. He had been doing this with increasing frequency since the others had shown up on his doorstep. Beth was standing before him, apparently unafraid to be alone with a known vampire. Her dress was shorter, now just below her knees. Vlad scrutinized her as she stared back at him, ever the patient one.

            “What?” he asked. He hadn’t heard what she had asked over the sound of his deep sulking.

“I said may I borrow a needle and thread?”

“Do I look like someone who sews to you?”

“I don’t know, what does someone who sews look like?”

            Vlad couldn’t tell if she was trying to be funny, or if she was in earnest. He ignored the question.

“I don’t have anything like that. What do you want it for anyway?”

            “To hem my dress properly.”

            “Your dress? Woman, we have much bigger problems to worry about than the state of your dress.”

            “I only thought it would be easier to move around if I was dressed more appropriately for the occasion,” she said in measured, reasonable tones. It was impossible to get a rise out of her. Vlad felt the corner of his mouth twitch downward.

            “Then why don’t you put on Victor’s suit and he can wear your dress? That seems to be the most appropriate arrangement to me.”

            Vlad was still smarting after his argument with Victor. He had come directly to the study after storming out of the makeshift laboratory. The fire had already been built up by the unknown daily visitor, once again.

            “I don’t understand what you mean, but I won’t accept any insinuations against Victor.”

            “And what are you going to do about it?”

            Beth was silent. Maybe this question had stumped her. Or maybe he had managed to scare her a little. Vlad watched her face for any change in expression and found none. Her face remained unflushed. Her heart was not beating any faster…

            Vlad glared at her. Strange thing about the heartbeat, he realized suddenly that he could not hear it. It was one of the things about being a vampire that had always helped him hunt his prey, this ability to hear one’s heart beating. He thought for a moment that he had been mistaken. He listened harder, blocking out the sound of the crackling logs in the fireplace. He focused on Beth, willing all of his senses to detect something from her. There was just nothing. No heartbeat, no sense of warmth, no scent of blood and sweat that all humans carried about them.

            Had there always been nothing? Vlad wasn’t sure. She had always been present while others were around. Perhaps he simply hadn’t noticed when there were other hearts and bodies to muddle his senses. But now that they were alone, there was no question. It was as if Beth wasn’t even standing in front of him. Except that she was. And all the while Vlad had stared her down, analyzing her; she continued to stare right back at him.

            It was unsettling.

            There was something definitely wrong with the woman.

            “What are you?” He asked slowly.

            Beth offered him a smile. Did she pity him? “I’m Victor’s wife.”

            “You’re not human. Are you a monster?”

            “Rude!”

            As always, Vinny arrived unpredictably and at the most inopportune moment. Vlad could not see the hand which was pointed at him, but he was sure that if he could, he would have seen Vinny shaking a finger at him in reproach.

            “Vlad Dracula! That is no way to talk to a lady.”

            He flopped onto the sofa opposite the vampire and lounged there, one leg thrown over the back, his arm tucked behind his head. With his loud entrance very irritating posture, he had effectively managed to completely draw all attention from Beth onto himself. Vlad found himself very thankful for Vinny’s invisibility. If he had been visible, he would have been that much more unbearable.

            “I’m not sure she is a lady,” Dracula said, though he instantly regretted it. He did not want to draw Vinny into conversation. Now it was too late.

            “Sure she is Vlad. I mean, she looks like a lady, talks like a lady, acts like a lady. She must be a lady.”

            “Speaking of rude,” said Beth, “It’s very rude to talk about someone as if they weren’t there.”

           “You’ve changed your dress, Beth,” Vinny continued, turning a deaf ear to her remonstrance, “Very fetching. Oh and by the by, Victor was having a sort of mental breakdown in the lab last I saw him. You might want to go check on that.”

            Beth left the room without another word, her movement quick, but serene. Whoever and whatever she was, it was clear she was bound to Victor by ties stronger than that of man and wife. Such, at least, was Vlad’s assessment.

            “Well, now that she’s out of the picture, we can really get down to business.”

            Vlad raised his eyebrows and looked away from Vinny. There was no point in watching him if he couldn’t properly observe his expressions. He looked down at his pet human skull, and as he listened to Vinny he imagined that the skull was speaking to him instead.

            “You have some business with me you don’t want her to hear?”

            “Well, yeah. I can’t have a witch like her spreading around all our secrets.”

            “So you have noticed something odd about her as well?”

            “Sure. She’s a witch.”

            “Do you mean that literally?”

            “Yeah. Of course.”

            “I don’t think she’s a witch.”

            “No? Then how else do you explain her being here with all of us?”

            Vlad said nothing. He didn’t know how to explain the signals he was receiving, or rather not receiving, from Beth. Could she be a vampire as well? He didn’t think that was the case. Surely he would know if he had received another vampire into his home. Then again, Frankenstein had arrived with her. He must be hundreds of years old himself, and alive by unnatural means never fully explained. What about Beth? How long had they been married exactly?

          “What, you’re not gonna say anything? Just gonna keep starting at that skull like some kind of necromancer?” When Vlad continued to ignore him, Vinny’s tone changed to one of sympathy. “I’m afraid he’s dead, Vlad. And he’s not coming back. Just let it go.”

            It worked. He managed to make Vlad glare at him - or at least in his general direction. Vlad was on the point of asking “What do you know about him?” when he stopped himself. Vinny was just being Vinny after all.

            “Get to your business. What is it you want?”

            “Oh, right. Do you know what the boys have cooking?”

            “The boys?”

            “Will, Frankie, the Doc. They’re planning some shenanigans for when you go to bed. Thinking they’ll stay up tonight to see about catching our friendly delivery boy in the act.”

            “And? What has that got to do with you and I?”

            “Just thought you’d want to know what they were up to, since they suspect you and all.”

            “Suspect me? Suspect me of what?”

            “Of being Y,” Vinny said, “What else?”

            Vlad laughed. He couldn’t help it, he simply had to laugh.

            “Yes, of course! Because I, being an undead vampire who already holds the key to eternal life, want to resurrect a centuries old mummy capable of regeneration for my own amusement. And to accomplish this astonishing feat, I am going to employ, though trickery, a doctor whose greatest accomplishment was creating a beast who murdered everyone he ever cared about. And I’ll throw in a bunch of aggravating storybook monsters just to make things more difficult for myself. Meanwhile, I’ll abstain from drinking any blood. Because eternal life isn’t challenging enough.”

            There was a pause, and then Vinny asked with complete seriousness, “So you admit it? It was you all along.”

            Vlad laughed again, lifted a book from the table next to him, and chucked it at Vinny, who dodged. Now he was laughing too.

            “You know, Vlad. You may have been joking, but I think you were on to something just now.”

            All the laughter had put Vlad in a good humor, which was something that he hadn’t experienced in days. He decided to tolerate more of Vinny’s prattle for a while longer.

“Oh? And what might that have been?”

            “What you said about Victor. You said that he was the one needed to reanimate the mummy, and the rest of us are just kind of hangers-on.”

            “Yes, and I meant every word.”  
            “Look, Vlad, I’m not accusing you of being Y. But what if you’re right? What if everyone else is just a distraction and Frankenstein is the one Y really wants? We’re so busy trying to search for clues and figure out the connection between us all, but what if Victor has been the key the whole time!?”

            Vlad considered this suggestion, but it seemed a poor explanation to him. He voiced his objections aloud as the thoughts floated through his mind.

“But it is obvious that Y’s objective is to resurrect the mummy. And Frankenstein is the only one who can do it. So if Y is trying to cover that up, he’s doing a very poor job of it.”

            “Or _she’s_ doing a very poor job of it.”

            This was surprising. “… You suspect Beth?”

            “Why not? A pretty witch like her could have any man, so why Frankenstein? She told us before that she knew who he was when she met him. Maybe she only married him because she knew what he was capable of, but she couldn’t find a way to introduce the mummy, let alone convince Frankenstein to revive him. Especially what with him being all PTSD about the whole monster ordeal. So she creates this elaborate plan to draw us all here, her husband included, and uses her magic to keep us all trapped inside until Victor agrees to do what she wants.”

            Vlad knew that Vinny was completely mad, and that Beth was definitely not a witch. But why was his crazy theory starting to make sense? Vlad shook his head in denial. There was still one flaw in his story.

            “Assuming what you say is true, and by all means I assume no such thing, then what is Beth’s motivation? Why resurrect the mummy at all?”

            “For science?”

            Vlad guffawed. He didn’t even know what it meant to guffaw until he did it. It was a kind of throaty sound that bubbled up and became stuck in the back of his mouth. He didn’t enjoy it, and he hoped Vinny wouldn’t provoke him into a second iteration.

            “OK fine. Maybe he’s an ex-boyfriend or something. I haven’t quite worked that part out yet.”

“Fine, fine. So what do you want me to do about it?”

            “Nothing.”

            “Nothing? Then why are you telling me all of this?”

            “Because I know what everyone else is up to. And soon Beth will know too because Victor is going to tell her. It didn’t seem fair that you’d be the only one out of the loop.”

            “Then will you also be staying up with the others? You wouldn’t want to miss out.”

            “Nah, I think I’ll get a good rest. I’m not going to miss anything anyway.”

            Vlad knew he had let the conversation trail on too long, but he was still hooked. He was inextricably caught up in this conversation with Vinny. It was entertaining to listen to him theorize, even Vlad had to admit. So, knowing that he might as well see it to the very end, he asked, “What do you mean? You don’t think they’ll catch the culprit?”

            “No, I don’t. Obviously if Y, or someone working for Y, is among us, then their plan is doomed from the start. We’re all in on the secret surprise party for delivery boy, now. Chances are, he won’t even show.”

            “Unless of course the visitor has been Hyde this whole time. Jekyll may transform during the day?”

            “Nah. It’s not the Doc. I’m sure of it.”

            “So are you going to share this information with the others?”

            “Nope.”

            Vlad kept silent. He merely indicated his interest by lifting his eyebrows, prompting further explanation. Vinny obligingly elaborated, “I’m as much a suspect here as you, Vladdy. The only reason I know about their plans is because I was eavesdropping. They had as little intention to tell me what they were up to as they did for you. If they aren’t going to trust me, let them figure it out for themselves.”

            “This is all a game to you, isn’t it?” Vlad asked. He wasn’t angry at Vinny for taking this situation lightly. Actually, he was starting to find this all rather funny.

            “Isn’t it? Y’s just playing a game with us. We just don’t know any of the rules.”

            “Maybe there are no rules?”

            “Even better!”

            Vlad smiled. Vinny was silent. He wondered if Vinny was smiling, too. For a second, Vlad felt as if he’d formed an ally. He quickly dismissed the feeling. He needed to remember that everyone here was as much his enemy as Y. _No,_ he corrected himself, _under normal circumstances, everyone here would be my prey._

            “You know, Vlad,” Vinny said after they had sat in comfortable silence for a moment. Vinny never could stand to be silent for more than a moment. “I think a good sleep might do you some good, too. I mean, I know you can’t see your reflection or anything… We have that in common. But you’re not looking so good these days.”

            Vlad dismissed the comment this time. Their moment of camaraderie had passed. He was back to brooding, and in no mood for Vinny’s teasing.

            “Is it about the blood? I know you haven’t had anything since we got here. Just so you know, there’s a standing offer to have some of mine if you want.”

            Rather than feel tempted, Vlad felt slightly perplexed.

“Why… would you offer such a thing to me?”

            “I’ve always sort of wondered what it would be like to be bitten by a vampire…” Vinny sounded wistful.

            So Vlad enlightened him. He told Vinny it was a slow death. Painful… Agonizing… He would feel every drop of his blood as a searing pain shooting through his heart until it beat its last. Not to mention the tearing, sharp pain from the wound at his neck.

            “Would you still want to give me your blood then?”

            Impossible to see his expression. There was a pause. What was he thinking?

            “Well, you wouldn’t have to kill me, right? Maybe you could just take a little?”

            “I only feed when I intend to kill.”

            “Oh…”

            Success at last! He had silenced Vinny. Though maybe he shouldn’t have put him off of the idea so completely? It was true that Vlad was uninterested in feeding off a willing and enthusiastic a victim, especially an invisible one. (If he drank from him, would he turn invisible too?) But if he were pushed to desperation… If he had no choice… Maybe he would need to accept Vinny’s offer after all?

            As if reading his mind, Vinny suddenly said, “Any port in a storm, am I right?”

            There was a pause, after which he continued, “You can’t tell, but I’m wiggling my eyebrows at you suggestively.”

            Vlad immediately left the room. If he stayed any longer, he probably would just kill Vinny and not even bother to sample his blood.

            Vlad thought of the plan the other three were concocting. He seriously began to hope that Vinny was wrong about everything. Maybe there would be an unexpected guest tonight, and maybe the others would catch him, and they would finally have some answers.

            He didn’t care how they escaped from the castle, he just knew it had better be soon.

            Daylight was coming fast. Vlad met the others at the staircase and parted ways with barely a word. Jekyll, William, and Frankenstein all acted the parts of men about to turn in after a long night of… Whatever it was they spent their nights doing. Vlad didn’t need Vinny’s warning to tell them that they were up to something. It was painfully obvious that their intention to go to bed was part of a charade.

            Vlad made no comment. Let them waste the day away with waiting. He wouldn’t interfere even if he could.

            Down to the cellar he went, traversing the stone staircase down into near-total blackness. He let the tapestry drop into place behind him to cover the tightly closed door. No chance of daylight seeping through here.

            The allowed his eyes to adjust to the dim light cast by the candelabra clutched in his fist, then used its glow to guide him toward the small wooden table where he had placed the Egyptology book. He had been reading it when he first noticed the mummy’s heartbeat, nearly two nights ago. And here it had remained since then, forgotten.

            In the silence of the cellar, Vlad listened carefully. From above, his preternatural hearing could just detect the sound of movement. Three pairs of feet carefully and quietly making their way back downstairs. The low murmur of conversation. Impossible even for him to make out the words. And of course, no heartbeats down here.

            _The mummy has a heartbeat_ , Vlad thought, _but not Beth?_

There had been a second - or even less than that - a brief moment in the unrelenting passage of time when Vlad had looked at Victor at the foot of the stairs, and he thought about asking about Beth. Then he didn’t. Seeing the haggard expression of Victor’s face had reminded him of the shouting match and near strangulation he had visited upon Victor earlier that evening. It wasn’t that Vlad felt guilty for doing it. He never felt guilty about anything. It just didn’t seem like the right time to bring up the strange, creepy nothingness clinging to his wife like a death-shroud. The phrase “adding insult to injury” came to mind.

            Now in the cellar, Vlad looked longingly at his coffin. He was tired. The sun had probably risen already, and he knew this was part of his fatigue. But he didn’t always need to sleep during the day. Sometimes he would simply lay in the silky plushness of the narrow box, enjoying the warmth and closeness of its soft interior, not sleeping but still dreaming of the distant past and days of former glory. He often thought it was a shame most people never experienced the comfort and relaxation of lying in a casket until after they had died. Then again, death in itself might be the ultimate form of relaxation. Vlad would never know.

            He was tired for other reasons. He knew it was blood deprivation that was weighing upon him. What was it that Vinny had said? He wasn’t looking too good? Yes, no doubt his hair was already becoming more white than black. His skin would gradually become paper-like, dry and pale and fragile-looking. And he was so, so tired. He was using too much energy without the means to replenish it. If he could just lie down and rest for a little bit…

            His gaze wandered from his own coffin to the large sarcophagus sitting next to it, and all thoughts of sleep were banished in an instant. There would be time for rest later.

            He picked up the book from the table and began flipping through pages. A portion of the book was dedicated to providing an overview of hieroglyphics and the language of ancient Egypt. Finding the page he wanted, Vlad grasped the twisted iron of the candelabra and brought it closer to the sarcophagus. He set it down on the ground and soon followed, sitting with crossed legs in the dust of the stone floor.

            He looked over the many symbols carved into the clay of the old casket and wondered where to begin. He stared down at the pages. Then he stared at the symbols, then back down again. He thought about throwing the book across the room, but resisted the urge. This didn’t make any sense.

            He had always considered himself talented at languages. Over the course of his long life he had picked up almost every single European language, several from the middle-east, as well as Latin. But he couldn’t make any sense of these symbols. The rudimentary keys listed in the reference book were next to useless. How the hell had archeologists learned anything from this system of writing over the years?

            Vlad took a deep breath that was completely unnecessary considering he didn’t technically need to breathe, but it made him feel better to do so. He returned to the symbols carved in the clay. One of the tricks he had picked up when trying to read a new language was to find repeating words or phrases. He tried this with the symbols on the stone.

            It took some time, but he found one. Ibis followed by a kneeling man with a few seemingly superfluous marks in between. Vlad checked the symbols against the key in his book. _Thoth?_ He wondered to himself. Was this it, then? Was this the name of the man in the sarcophagus?

            Vlad flipped through the pages in his book again. No, Thoth was the name of a god. Yes, the fellow with the head of an ibis, Vlad saw him now. Images of the deity had been carved into each corner of the long, narrow box. According to the book, Thoth was the god of knowledge. Vlad smirked when he read that, but he wasn’t sure why.

            Thoth must have played an important role in this man’s life, or perhaps it was the other way around. Vlad continued to read, wondering if there was some significance to this deity’s presence scattered so often across the outside of a tomb. Among several things, the god of knowledge was also associated with science, magic, and the system of writing.

            “So I have you to blame for all of this!” Vlad said sternly to the god’s image. Then he realized he was talking to himself, and quickly became quiet again.

            He spent some more time trying to find patterns in the symbols, but without much success. He did find something inscribed within a cartouche that he felt must be the man’s name, but the key was useless in helping him translate it.

            More time had passed than he was aware of. He had no idea how long he had spent pouring over the content of his book, but soon he became aware of voices overhead, sound of footfalls no longer attempting to be silent. Was it nightfall already, or had his housemates actually managed to capture someone, thus removing the necessity of keeping silent?

            Vlad stood from where he had sat throughout an entire day. His muscles felt stiff and close to snapping apart as he stretched. No sleeping for him, either. And what had he learned? Merely that this man must have been someone very important to the cult of Thoth to have His image carved so prominently all over his grave. And as for how that could be significant, he was still in the dark. Both figuratively and literally. His candles had burned down very low.

            Deciding to risk daylight, Vlad raised what remained of his candles and carried them up the stairs feeling weary yet resolved. He would need to find some spare candlesticks somewhere if he were to continue this research of his. It was fruitless work, but it was better than doing nothing.

            It really was night once again, or at least close enough to it. The dim light quickly fading from the narrow windows of the castle told him that indeed the next night was falling, and more than just a few hours had passed since he was last upstairs.

            Vlad blew out the candles, conserving what was left of them in case he couldn’t locate spares. He thought he might have left some candlesticks in the kitchen, which is exactly where he found the others gathered.

            They looked as exhausted as he felt, and from the expressions on their faces, they were just as unfruitful in their endeavors as he had been in his. This was a small comfort.

            “I take it you didn’t discover a sixth guest?” Vlad asked the drooping crowd. Several shakes of the head followed. A sigh from Dr. Jekyll. Victor didn’t alone didn’t move. He was staring blankly at the wall, his face ashen.

            Beth, as usual, was full of pointless energy. She was busy pulling biscuits and muffins from the cupboards. It seemed she had contrived ways of storing some of the leftovers from their previous meals. Vlad hadn’t given it any thought before, since the gifts brought by Y had no direct impact for him, but now it became obvious that the leftovers were now very necessary for the others. Y, having not made an appearance the day before, had also not brought any fresh food.

            Fruit, bread, these could last a few days. But Vlad, being a vampire, did not keep any sort of refrigeration system in his home. They could not have stored any meat or dairy. And eventually even the fruit would rot.

            “It won’t last forever,” Vlad commented aloud, not really meaning anything by it, but simply stating the obvious.

            “Y has shown us his hand,” Jekyll replied. “The message is clear. Either we comply with Y’s wishes, or he removes our supplies. We can resist and die slowly of starvation, or we can submit.”

            “Would he really keep us here long enough for us to starve?” William asked.

            “More likely Dracula will kill us first,” Jekyll said. Vlad wondered if the doctor had realized that he’d walked into the room.

            “It won’t come to that,” said Victor suddenly. His voice was wooden, unnatural. “Not when it’s in my power to stop it. Y shall have what he wants.”

            William and Jekyll turned toward him, concern mixed with relief in their features. They both murmured words of protest, although it was apparent that they were relieved by Frankenstein’s choice. He ignored them both.

            “You don’t need to worry about me,” Victor said unconvincingly. He looked to be on the point of fainting at any moment. “I will have Beth to assist me. We will get through this together.”

            “All according to plan,” Vinny whispered, his voice close to Vlad’s ear. “The real trap is set tonight.”


	13. A Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a stranger arrives bearing food, though he is given an unkind reception.

            He came in through the front door. It was as simple as that. Getting in was always easy; it was getting out… Well…

To get in, he tripped the latch in the manner that had been taught to him. It was a trick that only worked when someone was entering from the outside. He slipped through the door, pushing a small cart before him, and quickly closed the door again. He hesitated, but only for an instant. Then he turned and began wheeling the cart, full of fresh sausage, ham, pancakes and tarts, orange juice and milk, down the hall and toward the kitchen. Its wheels had been well greased to prevent the sounds of squeaking from being heard. He walked with a light, soundless step until he had nearly reached the end of the hall.

            He abruptly came to a swift, but silent stop at the entrance of the dining room. It now completely had the appearance of a laboratory set from a b-horror movie. He nodded approvingly. Signs of Victor and Beth’s work were scattered throughout the lab. It wouldn’t be long now…

            A cry ripped through the silence. He jumped, but could not avoid the body of the werewolf boy as it collided with his own with the practiced form of a college football player. Both he and the boy screamed as they fell to the floor, one of them overturning the cartload of food. He struggled under the boy’s weight, but his arms were pinned uselessly at his sides. He kicked his feet, but soon these too were restrained. He had been captured.

            “Fuck me…”

            “We’ve got him, Will! You can get up now.”

            William obligingly jumped to his feet and helped the others to drag their captive to a chair. Beth came forward with a sheet taken from one of the beds and proceeded to wrap the stranger tightly in place. They stood well clear of his still kicking feet until the man grew calm. When the trashing had ceased, he sat very still, glaring evilly at them all.

            Jekyll glared back at him, trying to learn anything he could about this man from observation alone. The first thing he noticed was, oddly enough, that the man was absurdly handsome. Radiantly so. He also appeared very young. In fact, he was probably not much older than William, if appearances were anything to go off of. He looked fresh, unmarked by the ravages of time and the experience of life’s various horrors. And he had escaped unmarked from the scuffle with William, though the werewolf was already beginning to form a bruise on his left cheek.

            Physically, he was not a large man. He was dressed casually in a sweater, light jacket, and dark pants. His blond hair was a shade darker than Frankenstein’s, now ruffled from his skirmish with William. There was a redness to his lips and cheeks that is usually only seen in women and very young men. In fact, his whole appearance was that of a boy just on the cusp of manhood, not yet even in his prime.

           If he had seen this person on the street, he probably would have liked him instantly, thought Jekyll to himself. Only the circumstances of their imprisonment made him hate this man on instinct.

            “Is this really him?” William asked. His tone of voice implied that he was less impressed by the man’s appearance than Jekyll. He sounded disappointed. “Is this really who Y was the whole time?”

            “I’m not Y,” the boy spat. His voice sounded smooth and sweet, like a piece of milk chocolate, but the cruelty and anger he was able to force into just three words made Jekyll flinch. It didn’t seem right, hearing that tone of voice from someone so angelic in appearance.

            “You’re the one who has been bringing us food,” Victor stated, pointing to the overturned cart, “If you’re not Y then it is clear that you are working for him.”

            “We want to know what’s going on,” continued William. He had moved closer toward their captive. Perhaps the difference in their sizes and the other boy’s inability to fight back had given him new courage. William crossed his arms over his muscular chest and toward over the stranger. The stranger in his turn did not seem intimidated.

            “Yes, that would be nice, wouldn’t it?” he sneered. And again Jekyll was struck by how unsettling it was to see that face twisted in such an ugly way. But it was gone in the next instant, his features clear of any sign that such an expression had ever existed.

            Jekyll raised his voice to join the others, “Let’s start with your name.”

            The stranger balked. He stared at each of them in turn, weighing his options. It was clear he didn’t want to say.

            “Problem, mate?” asked Vinny. He had joined the stake out party at the last minute (in the nude to increase his stealth of course) and had alerted the waiting party in the study of the stranger’s arrival. He had taken the time to dress himself in the oversized sweater and pants once again to ensure the stranger could see – or rather not see – him properly.

            “You might not believe me if I told you.”

            Frankenstein laughed at this. It sounded hollow and cold. Jekyll wasn’t sure he liked the sound of it.

“Hah! That is a good one,” he said. “I’m glad to see you have a sense of humor. Now, listen. Seeing as you work for Y, I’m sure you have some idea of who I am?”

            The boy continued to glare at him, but he nodded.

            “Just so. And Dr. Jekyll over there? I’m sure you’ve heard of him. William, whom you met just a moment ago, is a werewolf, though I’m sure you knew that already. And then of course you’ve seen Vinny. He needs no introduction. Later you’ll get to meet Vlad, and I am _so_ looking forward to that. So you see I don’t care who the fuck you are. Your answer will not surprise me. Now kindly do away with that ego, and tell us. _Who the fuck are you_?”

            “You don’t have to be so testy,” said the boy. Jekyll recognized him as a compatriot - as British as he was. He even had the same London accent. “I know you think that I’m responsible for all of this, and OK, maybe I am. But I’m as much a slave as the rest of you. I didn’t choose to work for Y. And now that you’ve caught me I suppose I’m stuck here just as much as the lot of you. Are these bindings really necessary?”

            “Your name first.” Frankenstein said through clenched teeth.

            “It’s Dorian. Dorian Grey.”

            He flashed them a smile that could win the hearts of millions. Jekyll worried suddenly about Beth, and then wondered why she had popped into his head at that moment.

            He allowed himself one brief glance at her, and was relieved to see that she was only observing Dorian with mild curiosity. She hardly seemed to have fallen in love at first sight. Only after he felt secure of Beth’s security did Jekyll fully process what the man had said. He was Dorian Grey? Was it really possible? Frankenstein might not have been surprised by his answer, but Jekyll was certainly taken aback.

            “I’m guessing from the look on everyone’s faces that his name’s supposed to mean something to me,” William said.

            Vinny laughed at him, “Will! Haven’t you ever opened a book in your life? Dorian Grey is the man in the portrait, dude. His picture ages but he never does.”

            “Are you really Dorian Grey?” Beth asked softly. Jekyll felt his skin crawl when he saw the way Dorian’s eyes raked over her. He offered her a melting smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

            “No sense in lying about it to you, darling. Did you tie me up? Think you could loosen this knot for me?”

            “That will be enough.” Victor moved in front of Beth to shield her partially from view.

            Dorian’s face twisted again in a sudden display of rage. “Let me go!” he shouted, wriggling violently in the chair.

            “Not until we get answers!”

            “You’ve got your answer! I’ve already told you who I am!”

            “But not what you’re doing here! Tell us why you’re here, and who is Y?”

            “I don’t know!” Dorian said, a note of desperation creeping into his voice, “I don’t know his name.”

            “But you’ve seen him?” asked William. “You can tell us what he looks like?”

            Dorian settled down a little after William spoke. He looked at the werewolf, his expression blank. No, not blank. He was making an expression at William, but it wasn’t one of hate. Jekyll wouldn’t have been surprised to see him glare or sneer at the werewolf, considering their recent physical altercation, but Dorian was looking at him with an inscrutable expression which Jekyll was unable to account for. Was he… afraid of William?

            “I’ve never seen his face.” Dorian said slowly, his gaze still locked firmly on William.

            “Then how do you take orders from him?”

            “He writes to me. Little notes arrive sealed with black wax. No postage, no return address. Just my name and his instructions for me. He always signs with the letter Y.”

            “And why should we believe you when we have no proof that you are even the man you say you are?” Victor asked. “How can we believe anything you say about Y?”

            “I’m not answering any more of your questions. My survival may depend upon it. Believe what I told you already, if you choose. Or don’t. It makes no difference.”

            “At least tell us how you got in,” suggested Jekyll.

            Dorian stared at him with the same expression he had seen directed toward William. Unfathomable. And it didn’t seem likely that he was afraid of an old man like Jekyll. Was he simply wary of him? He had every right to be, given the circumstances.

            Still, he was obliging with his answer, “I came in through the front door.”

            “The front door is locked.”

            “Y showed me how to open it.”

            “Y showed you?”

            “Told me how to open it. There’s a trick to the latch, but it only works on the outside.”

            Jekyll looked at the others, “Let’s take him to the door. We can have him try to open it.”

            William loosened Dorian’s bonds and dragged him to his feet. Dorian immediately tried to shrug him off, but William caught both of his arms behind his back in a vicelike grip. Jekyll saw Dorian wince.

            “Gently, William. He’ll need at least one of those arms to open the door.”

            “So it doesn’t matter what happens to the second one?” William growled. Jekyll smiled at him. Dorian looked genuinely frightened now, though perhaps it wasn’t William’s threat that scared him.

            “I tell you, it’s pointless. I can’t open the door from the inside!”

            His protests continued as they made their way down the hall. Jekyll hung back with Victor, Vinny, and Beth as William walked forward, pushing Dorian before him.

            “Stay close to him, Will. If the door opens, we don’t want him slipping out.”

            “It won’t open, you idiots, that’s what I’ve been saying this whole time.”

            William released one of his arms. As if to demonstrate his meaning, Dorian reached one hand very slowly to the door knob. He tried twisting it and turning it every which way, but the effect was the same as before.

            “See? I told you. I’m as much a prisoner now as all of you. Y has forsaken me.”

            “But why can’t you open the door? How did you manage to get out after the other times you came?”

            “I let myself in, but it’s Y who lets me out. Like I said, the trick only works from the outside. He’s not going to let me out now that I’ve let myself be captured by all of you. It’s hopeless.”

            William had released his other arm. Jekyll felt he understood why. There didn’t seem to be any sense in holding onto him if there was no chance of his escape. Once freed, Dorian promptly fell to the floor, his butt hitting the hard ground with a heavy thump. He looked like a spoiled child siting there, all prepared to throw a temper tantrum.

            “If you’re in the same position as us, you might as well help us,” said William.

            “Help you? I was _trying_ to help you, fools.” Dorian said. His voice sounded thick. Was he on the verge of crying? Jekyll resisted the urge to scoff at the emotional display and continued to listen to Dorian speak.

“That’s why I was bringing you food and supplies. It was all to help you accomplish the task Y sent you. The sooner it’s complete, the sooner we can all go home.”

            “The task?” Victor asked, his face turning pale.

            “The mummy.” Dorian clarified. “I should think that would be obvious. Y wants the mummy resurrected. You have the knowledge and all the supplies you need to get started, doctor. And might I suggest getting started quickly? The food I’ve brought won’t last forever, and I really doubt Y has a spare errand boy he can send in my place.”

            “But if that’s the case,” said William, “Then what we doing here? If Y only needs Frankenstein, then why bother with the rest of us?”

            Dorian looked at him wildly. For a moment, he seemed to be on the verge of agreeing with William. But like all of Dorian’s expressions, this look faded away in an instant, replaced by a smooth, innocent look of amazement. “Samples,” he said simply. “Frankenstein will not be able to use the same methods he did in the past. Y saw that immediately. But with the mummy’s natural regenerating properties and the… uncanny abilities of all of you possess, there should be enough here to regenerate him properly.”

            “Samples?” Jekyll heard himself asking with incredulity, “You want to experiment on us?”

            “Hey, I think I’ve done enough experimenting on myself,” Vinny said lamely. “I don’t much fancy the idea of someone else poking around with my body. Besides, there’s no way anyone could take a proper blood sample.”

            “In your case, I’m sure a skin sample would do,” Dorian said carelessly. His manner insinuated that he had complete disregard for their personal welfare.

            “I’m not going to be experimenting on anyone,” Victor said firmly. “I gave all of that up after the monster. I think I’d rather hear how you got mixed up in all of this, Mr. Grey. And what possible reason could Mr. Y have for regenerating a mummy in the first place?”

            “I don’t know what motivates Y to do anything. I only follow orders.”

            “And why? Why should you follow the orders of a man you claim to have never met in person?”

            Dorian stared at Victor mutely. He clearly had no intention of answering for himself.

            Victor set his shoulders straight in a two-can-play-it-that-way motion. “I refuse to comply with Y’s plans if you won’t answer my questions.”

            “Then it’s your funeral. Without my cooperation, you’ll be stuck here forever.”

            “Then you’ll suffer alongside us. Tell us what you know!”

            Dorian’s lips set in a firm, thin line. He wasn’t talking.

            “I say we wait for Vlad,” William said threateningly. “He’ll probably have his own questions for Dorian.”

            “If we let Vlad near him without some answers, I can’t guarantee his safety,” said Victor. Dorian continued to look unimpressed. Victor watched him for a few more seconds, then shrugged his shoulders. “Fine, we’ll wait for Vlad. In the meantime, let’s see what we can salvage from the food he’s brought.”

            Dorian chose this moment to speak up, but only to offer some advice, “See that you’re careful. I brought some supplies you’ll need for taking samples from the others.”

            Victor ignored this jab and turned away from him, though now Jekyll felt compelled to speak.

            “There won’t be any samples taken from anyone. We’re not here to conduct more experiments.”

            “We’ll see,” Dorian said ominously. They were the last words he would speak throughout the course of the day.

* * *

 

            “What if he kills him?”

            “He’s not going to kill him.”

            “But what if he does?”

            “William, he’ll have questions, the same as us. And if Dracula intimidates Dorian half as well as he intimidates you, then he has be best chance of getting answers out of him.”

            “Dracula doesn’t intimidate me.”

            “Right, sure. And Vinny isn’t a nuisance.”

            William tried not to laugh. He wanted to look serious and indignant. But he couldn’t help it. He giggled. Jekyll smiled.

            “Shush. He’s coming.”

            The tapestry lifted and Dracula stepped out from the hidden doorway. Jekyll thought that the smattering of white hair at his temples was starting to spread over the rest of his otherwise black head. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept at all throughout the day. His eyes were yellow and watery as he rubbed them. He yawned, and Jekyll could see how his gums were receding, making his fangs seem that much longer. He didn’t look good.

            “What do you two want?” he asked. All bitterness was gone from his voice. He just sounded tired.

            “We’ve caught someone.”

            Dracula appeared to need some time to register this.

            “What?” he asked after several seconds.

            So Jekyll repeated himself, “We caught someone during the day while you were asleep. A servant of Y.”

            “It’s Dorian Grey,” said William, perhaps trying to prove to Jekyll that he wasn’t scared of Dracula.

            “We’ve questioned him, but he doesn’t seem to know much,” said Jekyll. “We tried using him to get out of here, but either he’s stuck here with us now, or he’s pretending not to know and waiting for an opportunity to escape.”

            “He said that Y wants to resurrect the mummy, and that we’re supposed to be test subjects to help Victor do it,” added William.

            “Did he say who Y is?” asked Dracula.

            “He said he doesn’t know. Never seen him. Only gets his orders via note.”

            “And how to we know he’s not Y himself?”

            “Well… I suppose we don’t know that for sure.”

            “Where is he now?”

            “In the lab… the dining room. We have him tied up there. Victor, Beth, and Vinny are keeping an eye on him. We thought you might want to ask him some questions yourself.”

            “Dorian Grey… Why do I know that name?”

            “He’s also from a book. The Picture of Dorian Grey by Oscar Wilde. Not exactly a horror story, but he’s also immortal.”

            “Is that so?”

            “Well, apparently the picture ages while he stays young.”

            “Hm... Interesting…”

            Dracula began to slowly make his way down the hall. Jekyll thought he was being alarmingly calm about this opportunity to get answers, but perhaps he was just too exhausted to move with much haste. Or perhaps he needed time to think about how he would approach this new guest.

            They found the others exactly where Jekyll and William had left them. Victor was stationed as far from the mummy’s body as he could be while still keeping a close eye on Dorian. The man in question had been re-tied to the chair in the middle of the room. Vinny was lounging on top of the side-board in a “paint me like one of your French girls” pose. The tools Victor was meant to use to complete the mummy’s transformation had been moved by Beth to the cart brought by Dorian. She stood near it, ostensibly inspecting the instruments for damage from their fall.

            Dorian’s back was facing the door, so he did not see Dracula enter, but he heard their footsteps and loudly said, “Nice of you both to join us again. Have a nice stroll around the prison?”

            Without wasting any time, Dracula strode up behind Dorian, wrapped his hands around either side of his head, and flicked his wrists. Dorian’s neck broke with an audible SNAP.

            William screamed and Victor looked ready to pass out on the spot. Beth ran to his side as Jekyll instinctively reached out to quiet William. Vinny didn’t move, but he did utter a string of curse words. Dracula alone remained calm, having been the perpetrator of the sudden murder. He walked casually to face Dorian, whose head was now resting limply against his chest.

            Dracula didn’t touch him, but they all heard the sickening crackling sound as Dorian’s head lifted slowly again. The bones and ligaments in his neck were quickly snapping back into place. Jekyll watched, both fascinated and horrified, as Dorian’s head lifted again, and his eyes opened wide with hatred. There wasn’t a mark on him, as if the broken neck had never taken place.

            “So you must be the vampire,” he said, practically spitting in Dracula’s face. “That didn’t feel very good, you know.”

            “So you really are immortal,” Vlad said mildly.

            “That’s right, peasant. So it’s no use trying to kill me.”

            “Right. I can see that now. That’s very good. I’ll need you to answer some questions after all.”

            “You can go fuck yourself. I’m not talking.”

            Dracula placed his hands on the back of the dining chair on either side of Dorian’s head, he leaned in close, so close that Jekyll imagined Dorian could smell his rank breath. He spoke to Dorian quietly, but in the silence of the room, his voice carried easily to the others.

            “Do you know who I am?”

            Dorian continued to look unaffected. “You’re Dracula, of course. I helped Y track you down. You don’t scare me. So long as my picture is safe, I can’t die.”

            “So you’ve said. And that’s all the better. If you already know who I am, then you’ll know that I was once called Vlad the Impaler. I’m very good at torture. And if you can’t die, that just means I can do more to you in a much longer period of time.”

Dracula straightened up again and walked businesslike over to the cartload of surgical instruments. He picked up a particularly wicked looking scalpel and tested its sharpness against this thumb. It drew blood, but Dracula’s wound closed almost instantly.

            “You may not be able to die, but let’s see if you can feel pain.”

            “Oh Christ, fuck it,” said Dorian, “I’ll tell you everything I know. I’m probably a dead man anyway.”

            Vlad looked legitimately disappointed. “Really, just like that? I don’t even get to pull out one of your fingernails?” He looked at Jekyll with reproach, “And here I thought this was going to be a challenge.”


	14. Blood(y) Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian Grey explains his role in the Y affair, and Frankenstein accepts the inevitability of his fate.

            Dorian insisted on being untied while he offered his explanation of recent events to the group. At first, Victor was hesitant to agree, but with Vlad present it was unlikely that Dorian would make an escape attempt. And if what Dorian had told them could be believed, any attempt to escape would be unsuccessful. Y had forsaken his captured servant.

Vlad leaned against the dining table, unconcerned about the mummy’s corpse lying close behind him. He was tossing the scalpel in the air and catching it expertly in one hand. He seemed to be enjoying himself. Victor wondered if his confidence came from the knowledge that any accidental wound would heal in an instant.

            Watching Vlad made him think about what Dorian had said. Y’s intention might have been to use the others as tests subjects. If he had a sample of Vlad’s blood, could he really use that to reanimate the mummy?

            He shuddered at the thought, and tried to put it from his mind. With effort, he brought himself back to what Dorian was attempting to explain to them all.

            “It began with a letter,” Dorian was saying. “It came by regular post. You can guess who it was from. I’ll admit that I was surprised to see it addressed to Dorian Grey. Like most of you, I’ve been living under an alias since the name gained such notoriety. But the letter amused me, since it childishly asked me how I had become immortal.

            “I assumed that whoever sent the letter merely came across my real name, recognized it from the book, and thought to write to me as a sort of practical joke. So I wrote back. I only provided the same information that is in the book. I told the writer about my portrait and that so long as it exists I cannot die. I also explained that the artist who had painted the portrait had died years ago, so he’d have to take my word on the magic of the painting.

            “I sent the letter to the return address, a P.O. box in a town outside of London. For weeks after that, I heard nothing. By the time the second letter came, I had already nearly forgotten about the first. The second was calculated to frighten me. It was much shorter in length, and I found it lying on my bedside table when I woke one morning.  There was no postmark, but I recognized the handwriting. It said only ‘check the painting.’

            Thus far in his narrative, Dorian had spoken with a smooth, unbroken tempo. His diction was so perfect as to sound rehearsed, but here he abruptly broke off. Victor noted his knitted brow and a fleeting look of pain that crossed his face. He seemed to be gathering himself for the second half of his story, or perhaps deciding if he trusted the knowledge of his painting with his hostile fellow prisoners.

            When he did speak again, his resumed the calm, measured tone he had displayed from the first. “For years now I’ve kept the painting locked away in a vault I had specially made for the purpose. There it is kept safe from prying eyes, as well as any damage from damp or exposure of any sort. I never look in on it, myself. To tell the truth, I don’t care to see how I could have aged over the years. I’m sure the image is distorted beyond recognition at this point. But the letter, and the manner in which I received it, chilled me. I immediately grabbed the keys and left for the vault.”

            “You left?” interrupted Jekyll. “Do you mean to say the vault isn’t in your own home?”

            “No, of course not. I have another location for it altogether.”

            “Does anyone else have access to it?”

            “None but me. I have the only set of keys, and the vault is entirely secure. The men who installed it have long since died. The picture has rested safely in there for decades. Or at least it had, until it was stolen by Mr. Y.”

            “How was it stolen?” Victor asked.

            Here Dorian’s mask of calm displayed cracks once again. His features contorted in outrage. “I don’t know how the hell he did it! I have the only key, and I’m supposed to be the only person who knows the damned location! I mean, fuck it all, I’m supposed to be the only person who knows that a stupid story by Oscar Wilde was anything but fiction!”

            Dorian heaved a heavy sigh that Victor thought was more of a groan. His head fell down to his chest as he seemed to calm himself again. When he lifted his chin, he was all business again. Victor couldn’t help but marvel at these bipolar shifts in mood. Was this Dorian’s natural personality or the magic of the picture at work?

            “I don’t know how it was done,” Dorian said, “But the picture is gone, that’s a fact.  And I’ve been working for Y ever since.”

            “The conditions?” asked Vlad, flicking the knife in the air again and catching it between his index and middle finger.

            “Can’t you guess? In exchange for my picture, Y made me track down all of you. I sent out the letters, just like a letter had been sent to me. The goal was to lure you all to a location where I could bring the mummy, and where Dr. Frankenstein could perform his work.”

            Dorian smiled wryly at Vlad, “You were the toughest to track down, Dracula.” Vlad offered him a slight bow in acknowledgement of his struggle. “When I finally found you, I realized that it would be difficult for you to travel in your condition. Plus, there didn’t seem to be much I could coax you with to convince you to leave your castle. We picked the location out of deference to you.”

            “You are too kind,” Vlad said, though his tone of voice implied, “Go to hell.”

            “You still haven’t told us why Y is asking us to reanimate the mummy in the first place.”

            “Mr. Y does not ask, he orders.” Dorian replied to Jekyll’s question. “And as for why, I don’t have the slightest idea.”

            Dracula took a threatening step toward him, but Dorian held up his hands in a pleading sign for patience. “I’m not kidding! I really don’t know! Do you think Y would have trusted me with that information? He keeps me on a need to know basis. I know what he wants done with the mummy, because I’m the one who had to move it to the cellar. I’m the one who had to go digging around for fresh organs for the damn thing. But as to why he wants it done, I really couldn’t say.”

           Dracula observed him closely, then he nodded his head. He seemed satisfied that Dorian was telling the truth. Victor idly wondered if Dracula’s powers allowed him to act as a sort of living lie detector, but then he had questions for Dorian of his own.

            “You collected the organs and the supplies,” he stated plainly. Dorian smirked at him. Victor was starting to hate that smirk. “Where did the brain come from?”

            Dorian shrugged, “Medical college not far from here. Plenty of brains available for stealing. The sort of thing they keep around to study. No one will miss it.”

            “There wasn’t any information about the person this brain once belonged to?”

            Dorian sighed, “Does it even really matter? Did your monster remember who his brain had once belonged to, Frankenstein?”

            Victor had to admit that he hadn’t. Whoever that brain might have belonged to in its former body, it retained none of its memories when placed into the body he had created. That fact in itself was what made his creation truly monstrous. He had created life without history, without memory, without soul.

            And now he was being asked to do it again.

            “I can’t do it,” he whispered, not realizing that he had spoken aloud. But then the others were speaking to him, and he was called upon to defend himself.

            “You must!” Dorian shouted, “If any of us want to get out of here, then you don’t have a choice!”

            “Our survival seems to depend upon your cooperation, Frankenstein,” said Jekyll.

            William had gone pale. He said nothing, but Victor could see the silent panic in his eyes. Vinny too, was oddly silent on this occasion. But it was William’s expression that tore at Victor’s conscience. What had this boy done to be dragged into all of this? Merely been at the wrong place at the wrong time, and now he was to use him as what? Experimental materials?

            “Don’t any of you realize what you are asking me to do?” Victor asked desperately. “It’s not just me that will suffer from this. I don’t know what I would need to do to make this work, and you’re all here to be experimented on! By me!”

            “And me,” Beth added suddenly. “Victor, darling, no one said you were being asked to do this alone.”

            “Yes, she’s right Frankenstein,” said Jekyll. “I will help you in any way that I can.”

            “It isn’t right…” Frankenstein muttered, but even he could tell that he was fighting a losing battle. Everyone was against him, including his wife. They all wanted to be free of this prison more desperately than they cared for the consequences of what Y wanted him to do.

            “Say, I’ve got a question,” Vinny said, cutting through the little side conversations that had cropped up while Frankenstein battled his internal demons. “What if Frankie tries to do what Y wants, and he fails? I mean, it’s going to be a bit different than it was before, right? So what if it doesn’t work? What if we try to bring the mummy back, but he stays mostly-dead?”

            “It will work,” Victor heard himself saying. The terrifying fact of the matter was that he knew what he said was true. His imagination, unbidden by him, was already working through the changes he could make to the original operation, given the circumstances. He thought about the materials available and the unusual properties of the mummy’s body. And yes, he even considered how samples from the others could be useful for the experiment. Yes, it could be done. It could succeed. And he would be the one to do it.

            “Let’s get started right away,” he said, jumping up from his seat and striding toward the mummy. He allowed the fervor of scientific discovery to pull him along, and tried not to think of the rest. There was no way he could complete this work if he allowed himself to be dragged down by his conscience.

“Beth, I’ll need your help, as I don’t think I can do much of this work alone. Dr. Jekyll, your services are also greatly appreciated. We’ll start with you.”

            “Start with me?” Jekyll asked as Frankenstein drew nearer toward Dracula. Victor plucked the scalpel from Dracula’s hand and returned it to the tray of other surgical instruments. He observed these tools, and sure enough, found a needle and syringe among them.

            “Yes. I’ll need a sample of your blood.”

            “Mine? Whatever for?”

            “Don’t be too alarmed, doctor. I intend to take some of my own for study as well. Are we not both immortal men?”

            “Well, I suppose so. To be honest, I’m not entirely sure.”

            Victor had been busy searching for means of ensuring that the instruments were sterile. He paused when Jekyll gave this confession, and looked up at him curiously.

            “Not sure?”

            He could see the hesitation in Jekyll’s face. Jekyll turned and glanced at Dorian over his shoulder, obviously uncertain if he should speak in front of Y’s spy. In truth Victor wasn’t sure he liked the expression of keen interest in Grey’s face.

            Dracula was the one who suddenly spoke, following the path of their eyes, “You needn’t worry about him. He won’t be going anywhere, now that we have him. Yes, I think he’ll remain tied up during the day, with at least one of you awake to watch him. Let him roam at night if he wishes, and I will keep an eye on him.”

            “Is that all you’ll do, Vlad?” Dorian asked, his face and voice full of mock child-like innocence. Dracula merely observed him with upturned brows, clearly not understanding what he meant to imply. Victor wasn’t sure he understood either, but he didn’t want to consider the possible insinuations. He knew he had to keep his mind focused on the task at hand only, and right now that meant focusing on what Jekyll had to say.

            “Go ahead, Jekyll. So long as Dorian is with us, I’m sure that whatever you have to say will not get back to Y.”

           Dorian gave a short laugh, but Victor ignored him. Jekyll, apparently, also decided it was best to do the same.

            “The thing is, I don’t understand how I got this way,” he began, “The potion I made was only meant to suppress my conscience, what some might call the ‘superego.’ Call it a fanciful experiment if you will. Mostly, I just wanted to see if it could be done. And, well. Obviously, I succeeded. But the potion I made had its flaws, the most notable being that I began to transform without the aid of the potion at all. And when I tried to recreate the draught in order to develop a cure, I discovered that my original solution had been corrupted. I had no idea what the impurity was that was in my potion, and without it, I could not successfully redo what I had made before.”

            “So you were stuck with Hyde.”

            “Yes, exactly. For years I was obsessed with trying to recreate the potion, or to develop some other way of suppressing him. I even faked my death in order to move away and focus on my research. When I wasn’t drowning in that, I was busy picking up the pieces left after another of Hyde’s transformations. The more I fought to suppress him, the angrier and more cruel he seemed to become during his time in the body. Eventually, I began to forget what it was he had done while in control, and the thought that he might harm someone without my knowledge was frightening. I secluded myself even more.

            “I was so preoccupied with this that years had passed before I knew it. A whole decade in fact. Look at me.”

            Jekyll paused and spread his arms wide. He even turned to spare a glance at Vinny and William, allowing them to take in his entire appearance before turning back to Victor again.

            “I was not a young man when Hyde first arrived. In fact, I had just turned fifty years old. A passage of ten years should have aged me considerably. But when I looked in the mirror, I might as well have brewed the potion yesterday.

            “The only thing I could surmise is that whatever imperfection existed in the original draught must have stopped my aging process, the same as it created Hyde. I haven’t put my immortality to the test, as Vlad just did for Mr. Grey, but I’ve never caught so much as a cold over the years, and I certainly haven’t aged, let alone developed any of the diseases one would expect in an aged person.”

            “So then, you are immortal.” Vinny concluded for him. “Why did you act like you weren’t sure before?”

            “Because there’s no reason why I should be.” Jekyll said with a sigh. He removed his glasses and began to clean them patiently on his shirt. Victor didn’t see why. His glasses didn’t appear dirty to him. “I’m saying that I don’t know why I developed immortality. There’s no reason for it. A side effect of the potion, that’s obvious. But why a potion that was only meant to suppress one portion of my psyche should also render me immortal is beyond me.”

            “Well, doctor,” Victor said as he lifted the syringe, “When are you going to get a better opportunity to find answers?”

            Jekyll sighed again, replaced his glasses, and began to roll up his sleeves. “Alright, if you must. We can’t expect you to be the only one making sacrifices.”

            Victor smiled, thankful for his cooperation. This was going to be hard enough for him without having to deal with any resistance. Of course, things should be easy now that he was complying with Y’s wishes, right?

            Wrong. Victor finished taking a sample of blood from Jekyll, and passed it on to Beth for safe storage in one of the vials courteously supplied by Dorian. He had just reached for another syringe, prepared to gather the next sample, when Vlad spoke up.

            “Do what you need to do, but don’t expect me to offer up any of my blood.”

            Victor paused. He hadn’t planned on asking for Dracula’s blood yet, but he would no doubt need it before the experiment was complete.

            “Vlad? I’m confused. I thought you also wanted this experiment to go off as soon as possible?”

            “I do, but I never agreed to be a test subject.”

            William jumped up from where he’d been seated next to Vinny. “Hold on! This doesn’t work like that. You can’t just be a dick to Victor about resurrecting the mummy and then decide not to be a team player. We’re all giving a sample, and that includes you.”

            Vlad eyed the wolf-boy coldly. Victor almost thought _hungrily._ “And who’s going to be taking the blood from me?” he asked. “You?”

            William balked slightly, but then he puffed out his chest in the age-old make-self-bigger protection strategy seen in wild animals. “Maybe I will,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. Victor was touched at his willingness to stand up to the vampire on his account, but it wouldn’t do to argue now.

            “Leave him, William. I can make do with what I have for now. Starting with myself,” Victor plunged the needle into his own forearm, provoking a wince from William. Victor couldn’t help but smile. Will was going to have a hard time extracting any blood unwillingly from Dracula if he was that squeamish.

            Vlad gave a single nod, and then turned on his heel to leave. “See that you finish the work without needing anything from me.”

            Victor allowed him to go without a word. He suspected why Vlad was reluctant to offer up a sample. A vampire’s power lies in his blood after all. Using his blood as research material might not have the best results. They didn’t know what sort of man the mummy would be when he was resurrected, but making him a vampire on top of whatever he already was probably wasn’t the best idea.

            “Need anything from me, doc?” Vinny asked, already rolling up the sleeves of his baggy sweater.

            Victor considered him only for a moment, “Thanks, but I don’t see what good it would do to turn the mummy invisible if I’m expected to cut into him. William’s transformative capabilities may be helpful, however.”

            “Wouldn’t you risk turning him into a werewolf like me?” William asked. He was looking at the body he once feared, lying inert as it was under a clean white sheet, with a look of pity.

            “I don’t plan on just injecting all of this into him,” Victor said, tapping the plastic syringe full of his own blood. “I just need to study the properties in our blood first. Of course, given the fact that this body has gone through the mummification process, he probably will need a blood transfusion at some point. But we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Right now, I’m just going to need a few ideas about how we can partner the mummy’s regenerative capabilities with the qualities each of us possess. Then I’ll have Beth assist with the actual operation.”

            William held his arm out without further argument, only pausing to warn Victor against getting any of Will’s blood on his hands, lest he become contaminated by the werewolf curse.

            Vinny ended up pitching such a fit about being the only person not sampled, though Vlad had certainly not complied, that Victor eventually agreed to taking some of his fingernails, since it was impossible to safely locate a vein on Vinny’s invisible body. Vinny had to clip the nails himself, and deposited them safely in a glass vile, capped with a small cork – or so he said. Impossible to tell if he had really done what he claimed. He had definitely grabbed the vile from Victor. And he definitely made motions as if he was placing something inside. So perhaps the sample was in there.

            Victor held it to his ear and shook the glass. Fascinatingly, he could hear the sounds of the nail fragments rattling around inside.

            He looked at the vial again, and nearly dropped the glass. Inside the container, faint at first, and gradually darkening, he was starting to see the nail clippings themselves.

            Vinny must have seen the look of surprise on his face, because he said, “Yeah, that always happens whenever something’s separated from the source.”

            “The source?”

            “My body, man.”

            “Interesting.” Victor looked at the vile again. The nails were now completely visible. “But I’m not sure how useful they’ll be in this state.”

            He said that, but for the first time in a long while he was looking forward to researching human anatomy again. He couldn’t wait to get these under a microscope.

            “It’s the same with hair,” Vinny said. He reached up to pluck a hair from his head, and handed it to Victor. Within only a few seconds, it darkened to black.

            “Why does it do that?” Victor asked.

            “Dunno.”

            Victor stared at him. “Do you mean to tell me that you managed to turn yourself invisible, and you don’t understand how that works?”

            “Not at all!” answered Vinny cheerfully, “I understand exactly how I turned myself invisible. What I don’t understand is why the color comes back once something comes off of me. I mean, why doesn’t it just stay invisible? It’s weird, right?”

            “Vinny, everything about you is weird. I suppose we will just have to accept it.”

            He said that, but Victor pocketed the vial of Vinny’s nails for later study all the same. For the purpose of resurrecting the mummy, they were completely useless. But curiosity had been awakened in Victor again. If he was being forced to create another monster, shouldn’t he at least have a little compensation? And what better compensation could there be than fresh research material? Maybe this time, he had a chance to actually do some good…

            “Gentlemen,” Beth said as she lightly rested her hand on Victor’s arm, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but Mr. Grey wishes to be dismissed.”

            The four glanced over at Dorian, who for the past ten minutes had been trying silently to inch his was toward the open dining room door. He stopped as soon as Beth said his name and glared at her.

            “Ah yes,” said Victor, “Well, suppose we just do as Vlad suggested and let him roam free for now? One of us should be able to keep an eye on him.”

            “Leave it to me!” cheered Vinny, eager to help, though Victor wasn’t sure why. In his book, Vinny was still a suspicious character, and he didn’t like the idea of the two of them being alone together.

            Thankfully, William seemed to be in agreement. “I’d better go with them,” he said as Vinny dragged Dorian out of the room by his arm, already in cheerful one-sided  conversation with him.

            Victor was thankful for William’s willingness to play chaperone, but the temptation he’d had to research Vinny’s condition joined with a new resolution regarding the werewolf.

            “William,” Victor stopped him as the boy was about to leave the room. “About the sample, I’m not really sure it will do much good with the mummy. But I was thinking, maybe during my research, I’ll find some way of helping you with your… situation.”

            William considered Victor with an unreadable expression, then reached out and shook Victor’s hand. “Thanks, Dr. Frankenstein. But you don’t have to do that. I know now that there’s probably nothing anyone can do. You just focus on getting us out of here. Preferably before the next full moon.”

            Victor squeezed William’s hand in friendship, then let him go. He was glad that he had never suspected William of any involvement in this affair. True, although they had apprehended Dorian, they had not discovered Y’s identity. But Victor was convinced of William’s innocence. He wasn’t Y. He was sure of it.

            William left to ensure that Vinny wasn’t subjugating Dorian to some new and unusual from of torture. After watching him go, Victor turned to face Beth and Jekyll. His wife had uncovered one of the mummy’s arms and was taking samples from it. Jekyll was busy preparing slides from the samples they had already collected. A microscope had also been courteously provided by Y and Dorian. No expense spared for the successful completion of this experiment.

            Swallowing the ever-present feeling of panic he had whenever entering a laboratory, Frankenstein sighed.

            “Well then, let the nightmare begin.”


	15. Cahoots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which two friends are reunited.

            He was awake, but he didn’t get out of bed. He just wanted to relax for a moment, enjoying the sweet sensation of consciousness. With eyes closed, he stretched as far as he could, pulling away from his core through his toes and fingers. Then he ran his fingers through his thick hair, knowing without needing to see that all traces of grey would have disappeared. His clothes felt loose and baggy, but he was comfortable for now. He could worry about replacing his clothes later.

            “Morning, sleeping beauty!”

           His eyes snapped open. There was a man sitting crossed-legged on an old steamer trunk at the foot of his bed. His hair was dark. It looked black in the dim light of the room. His skin was only a few shades lighter than his hair, so that when he smiled his teeth shone white by contrast. His clothes were also too baggy for him, so that he had to roll up the sleeves of his shirt and cuff his pants.

            This man was not a stranger to him. He sat up with a surly expression and grumbled, “What the hell do you want, Vinny?”

            “Is that any way to greet an old friend? I’ve missed you.”

            “Piss off.”

            “Hey now!” Vinny’s usual American drawl had been replaced by a thick London accent, similar to his own. But he knew this was not mockery. This was Vinny’s genuine speaking voice. “What’s all this? I thought you’d be glad to see me, so why all the sass?”

          “Oh sure, glad to see you. You’re the one who told me to come here, and just look at the mess we’re in now.”

            “I told you it would be a mess when I asked you to come.” Vinny retorted, putting a heavy emphasis on the word _asked_. “That’s the whole reason you agreed in the first place.”

            “Yeah, ‘cause I thought it would be fun. I didn’t realize you just needed _him_ the whole time.”

            Vinny smiled at him darkly, “That rings of bitterness, my friend. Be careful, you’re starting to sound like Jekyll.”

            “I _am_ Jekyll.”

            “That’s not what the others will say. They’ll accept what the good doctor’s been saying about you this whole time. To them, you’ll just be the monstrous Edward Hyde.”

            He wanted to hit him, so he did. He got up from the bed and smacked Vinny across his smiling face so hard that he fell to the floor. Vinny just laughed, which of course made him angrier. But now he suddenly felt like laughing too, so he did. His laugh sounded dry and hollow, more like a bark than a laugh. He didn’t like the sound of it, so he stopped, but he continued to smile down at Vinny.

            “Well are you just going to stand there like the psychopath everyone thinks you are, or are you going to help me up?”

            He rolled his eyes and helped Vinny to his feet. They were instantly friends again, as if he hadn’t just smacked Vinny to the floor.

            “And you were wrong, by the way.”

            “About what?”

            “About my needing The Other You,” Vinny stared at him with a half-smile. One of the things that he always liked about Vinny was that even when he was being serious, he was never really being serious. It made him a very good liar. So he wasn’t sure if Vinny was telling the truth when he said, “You know everything he does and more. With Dorian here now, I need an ally like you more than ever.”

            “Ah, right. And how is dear Dorian?”

            “He’s… cooperating.”

            “And that’s… good, right?”

            “Right. At least he hasn’t said anything to put a wrench in our plans. It doesn’t matter either way. Everyone already suspects me.”

            “That’s only because you’re the shadiest person I’ve ever met.”

            “The Other You hasn’t made it easy, either. He’s been one of the worst at keeping an eye out for me. Did you know he’s been setting up little traps to keep me from spying on him when I’m invisible? Trip wires and such. It didn’t matter, because I was already spying and I watched him do it.”

            “I know.” He replied, trying not to lose his temper, “I remember everything he does.”

            “Oh, yes that’s right. Well, that’s exactly what I mean when I say that you will be more useful than him. The others aren’t going to like it though.”

            “Vinny, why are you here?”

            “Didn’t I already say? I missed you!” He spread his arms wide and grinned stupidly at him again. “Give us a hug then!”

            “Vinny, I will cut you.”

            “See, even when you’re Dr. Jekyll, you still have that sense of humor. It’s one of the things I didn’t miss.”

            He thought about correcting him again on the use of that name, but this time he would let it slide. Instead he asked, “What is it you really want?”

            Vinny shrugged and lowered his arms, seeing that signs of affection were not something he could expect from his friend. “I didn’t expect you to show up here as The Other You. I haven’t had a chance to talk to you about our strategy. Obviously, now is not a good time to let the others know about our relationship.”

            “I’m not an idiot. I’m not gonna go blabbing. Dorian might say something, though. He could blow our whole cover.”

            “If he had planned on that, I think he would have done it already. No, Dorian shouldn’t get in our way.”

            “Fine. But I want to ask you about the werewolf. That wasn’t part of the plan, Vinny.”

            Vinny winced theatrically. He had always been a performer, and now he winced like a man who had only ever seen a wince performed on a stage. “Yeah, about that. I sort of ran into him on the way. I thought he might be kind of useful, you know? Plus, I sort of promised to keep an eye on him.”

            “Useful? How in the hell is he supposed to be useful?”

            “Plan B?”

            He shook his head. “You can’t be serious.”

            “Hey, better him than you, right?”

            “You brought him as _bait_?”

            Vinny patted him lightly on the shoulder, “It shouldn’t have to come to that so long as you play your part right.”

            Hyde stared at the hand resting on his shoulder until Vinny removed it. “I’m not going to get tied to a chair am I?”

            Vinny shrugged again, “With the mood this group has been in, that may be the least of your problems. You’ll be lucky if Vlad doesn’t try to suck your blood.”

            “So what am I supposed to do? Just let them?”

            “Don’t worry, I’ll have your back. Just maybe try not to act like such a crazy person? Now, let’s talk ground rules.”

            “I despise rules.”

            “I know you do, but these are important. Rule number one still stands: We don’t let the others know about our connection.”

            “Fine. I don’t really relish the idea of being associated with you anyway.”

            “Hah! There’s that sense of humor! OK. Number two: you don’t act until I say so.”

            Hyde raised his eyebrows at Vinny, but he offered no objections. Vinny hesitated before moving on to his final rule.

            “Number three: Try not to be such a dick.”

            “… I don’t remember that being part of the original plan.”

            “Well, I didn’t really have a number three, but I felt like there should be something else.”

            “Right… Whatever.”

            “I’d better get out of here before someone starts to ask where I’ve gone. You come join us in about 10 minutes. Expect some resistance from the others. Remember, Jekyll’s been saying all kinds of crap about you.”

            “I know. I am Jekyll.”

            “Not to them, Henry. To them you’re just Hyde, and they’ll think you’re the enemy.”

            He smirked, “Aren’t we?”

            “Us? ‘Course not. We’re their saviors.”

            “… You’re insane.”

            “Be reasonable, Henry! We can’t both be insane!” Vinny said with a truly crazy smile. “You can try to convince them, if you wish, but we aren’t here to make friends. Just keep your head down.”

            “You mean like you’ve been doing?”

            “Right!” Vinny said. His face and hands abruptly vanished, leaving only the shell of his clothing floating on an empty body. “Oh, and one more thing - they still don’t know I can do that.”


	16. Me, Myself, and Hyde

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hyde introduces himself, and Dracula attacks.

            William counted the days and nights of their stay on his fingers and sighed. They were still days away from the next full moon. And yet his relief was cut off by a loud growl from his stomach, reminding him that they would all probably starve before he’d ever transform. Beth had already insisted on rationing the food supply, and William wasn’t used to going without.

            Not that he would ever complain to the others. Frankenstein was a nervous wreck already. He was the only one Beth had to prompt to _eat more_ , though Jekyll didn’t seem to have as much of an appetite these days as well. Like William, he didn’t complain about his work, but he didn’t seem to be enjoying the research required as Frankenstein’s assistant either.

            William glanced at the microscope and other instruments strewn around Jekyll’s usual workplace. The doctor had not yet joined them that evening for research, and William was starting to worry. If he was feeling this hungry, he could only imagine what Dracula was like by this point. It wouldn’t be good for Jekyll to meet him alone…

 William shuddered and forced the thought from his mind, comforting himself with the knowledge that once again Vlad had taken up guard duty for the evening. He would be preoccupied with his surveillance of Dorian Grey for the night, and was unlikely to target Jekyll for a bloody feast.

William had been doing his best to stay far away from both Dorian and Vlad, though he almost pitied Dorian for having to spend so much alone time with the vampire. He kept thinking back to the vampire’s threat when Dorian first arrived. He had made it clear then that he wasn’t above using torture to get information from Grey. But William’s pity wasn’t enough to make him volunteer to assist Vlad during the night.

            His turns watching over Dorian during the day were bad enough. Dorian had a way of staring at him which made William immensely uncomfortable. And he never slept. William had already asked the others if Dorian ever dosed off during their shifts. The answer was always no. Did it have something to do with Dorian’s portrait? Did it take all signs of fatigue from him as swiftly as it removed signs of aging and injury?

            He would probably never know for sure. Dorian refused to say anything more to them since the first night, barring the occasional jeer or cutting insult. At night, when Vlad was able to watch him, they released him from his bonds and allowed him to roam about the castle. They expected him to try an escape, but so far it seemed that Dorian truly believed the effort would be pointless. Still, there was always the possibility Y would release his servant during the day while the others slept, so the bindings and sleeping in shifts were still necessary.

            In order to keep out of the way of both Dorian and the vampire, William spent his nights loitering around the lab. He and Vinny were currently perched on top of the sideboard, watching Victor and Beth at work with the mummy. They shared an apple between them to silence the grumbling in both of their stomachs. He was just on the point of asking when Dr. Jekyll would join them when the man entered the room.

            He was short – very short - and pale. His hair was dark, thick, and disheveled. In fact, his whole appearance appeared disordered, from the trousers which were far too large to the baggy sweater he wore. And all about him there was a sense of something wrong. At first William thought he must be deformed in some way, but he quickly realized that there wasn’t anything physically the matter with the man. In fact, upon a second glance, he looked familiar.

            The man strode silently past Victor and Beth, who stopped their work to gape at him. He ignored William and Vinny entirely. He simply walked to the side table reserved for their scientific instruments, sat in the chair in front of the microscope, and began to study the slides on top of it.

            “Um, excuse me?” Victor said, finally finding his voice, “Can I help you?”

            “No,” the man said in a soft, husky voice. He was so quiet, his voice barely above a whisper, “You cannot.”

            William’s skin crawled as the man spoke. There was something so indescribably unpleasant about him, though he was not an ugly or evil looking man. But that feeling of recognition had come to him again when he heard his voice, and it was starting to frighten William more than the man’s sudden appearance had.

            Victor seemed at a loss for what to say, so he settled with “who the hell are you?”

            “I am Henry Jekyll.”

            “Sir, I have been trapped in this castle with Dr. Jekyll for over a week now. I think I would be able to recognize Jekyll when I see him, and you are not him.”

            “Yes he is,” said William suddenly. Now he knew why he’d felt that unsettling feeling of recognition. This man looked like a younger version of Dr. Jekyll. He sounded like him too.

            “Very good, William,” said this strange yet familiar man. He smiled at William, and it was almost like Jekyll, but there was something displeasing about his smile. Jekyll had been warm, but this was more than cold. There was ice in his look. William shivered.

            “You see, the boy recognizes me,” the man continued to say, “I would have thought you’d catch on faster. Aren’t you supposed to have the brains in this operation?”

            But Victor had backed away from him, his eyes wide with raw emotion. What was it? Astonishment or terror?

            “You’re him! Edward Hyde!”

            “No. I’m not,” Hyde said severely. “There is no such person.”

            “But if you are who you claim to be…”

            “I told you I am Henry Jekyll, and that is the only person I have ever claimed to be.”

            “But, Jekyll told us…”

            “I am well aware of what I told you!” the man hissed. His voice was still so quiet, never rising from that whispering tone. “He may choose not to acknowledge me, but we are the same person; it has never been any different.”

            “I don’t understand,” William said.

            “No surprise there,” said Hyde.

            That stung, but William persevered, “You say you’re the same, but the way you look, the way you speak… And Jekyll doesn’t remember anything about you.”

            “Well, he wouldn’t want to, would he? Do you want to remember the things you don’t like about yourself? And of course I look different. It’s a side effect of the potion.”

            Victor was looking at him critically, “I was expecting something more…”

            “Monstrous? Oh yes, I told you a lot of lies about me when I was him, didn’t I? Well, that’s only because I don’t like admitting the truth about myself when I get like that. He can be a right git, I can.”

            William was having a hard time following Hyde’s trail of thought. He kept switching back and forth from talking about Jekyll as if that’s who he was, to referring to Jekyll as a separate individual.

            “Hang on,” Vinny interrupted, “But if you remember everything from when you’re him, then all the research…”

            “Yes,” said Hyde. He was already starting to sound impatient. “I know all about your little experiment here. And since I’m the same as Dr. Jekyll,” he paused and looked pointedly at Victor, “Then you don’t have to worry about me lacking any important information. I’m just as capable of research as that other me.”

            “But what about your reason for being here?” asked Victor a tad breathlessly. He had still obviously not overcome the shock of seeing Hyde appear in their lives so suddenly. “Dr. Jekyll arrived because of a note left by you.”

            “Yes, I told myself to come here.”

            “But why?”

            He paused. For an instant, he glanced toward William, but William couldn’t guess why. But it was only for a moment. His gaze reverted back to Victor and remained there.

            “Because I received word that Dr. Frankenstein would be conducting an experiment here to bring a centuries old mummy back to life.”

            “And you believed it?”

            “Well, was I wrong?”

            “So you came here of your own free will? You weren’t coerced?”

            Hyde snorted, “Of course I was coerced. But I also wanted to come. When I get like this,” he motioned to his own dwarfish body, “You pretty much can’t convince me to do anything I don’t want to do.”

            Vinny laughed at that. William didn’t see what was so funny about the whole situation.

            “Then you came here to assist with the research?”

            Hyde paused again. He crossed his arms, tilted his chin upward, and peered thoughtfully at Victor down the length of his nose.

            “No, actually I don’t think I will.”

            Victor was shocked. “What? But why not? It’s why you’ve come, isn’t it?”

            “Well, why should I help you? You haven’t exactly been very nice to me, have you?”

            “I’ve only just met you!”

            “Wrong, sir! Wrong! I’ve been here the whole time, you just didn’t have the eyes to see me. But I’ve been here, listening in on every conversation you had about me with the Other Me. You didn’t have very nice things to say then, did you? You’ve all suspected me of being Y at one point or another. Even I suspected me. Stupid Jekyll…”

            He began muttering to himself under his breath, calling himself all sorts of foul names. This was the final nail in the coffin. William was convinced. Hyde was completely mad.

            He snapped out of whatever reverie he was in as soon as Victor tried addressing him as “Mr. Hyde.”

            His head jerked up and he shot to his full height, which admittedly was not that tall, though he still managed to look intimidating. “That is not my name,” he growled, “Haven’t you been listening to a word I’ve said?”

            “Well, I’m certainly not going to call you Jekyll,” Frankenstein said. “You’re nothing like him.”

            “I am exactly like him!” Hyde shouted, his voice finally rising above the husky whisper, “I am him! I am his desires, his drive! What would you be without desire, Frankenstein?”

            Victor stared down at him, unmoved by his passionate cry. Hyde glanced behind him in that moment, and noticed Beth hovering close by. He smirked.

            “Surely you’re no stranger to desire, Dr. Frankenstein? Your dear, precious Dr. Jekyll isn’t either. Would you like to know what kind of thoughts he’s had running through his head? He’s been entertaining some very inappropriate thoughts about your wife.”

            Victor’s face purpled as Vinny jumped down from the sideboard. He put himself in between the men, though since they could see right through his head; it didn’t prevent them from glaring at one another.

            “OK! I think that’s about enough quality time for one evening, don’t you, Will?”

            William couldn’t agree. He sort of wanted to see Frankenstein punch Hyde in the face. But if what Hyde had said was true, did that mean Victor would really be punching Jekyll in the face?

            As the argument between Hyde and Victor intensified, William quickly slipped out of the room. Vinny might do his best to make the situation worse, but he trusted Beth not to let the situation escalate any further while he was gone.

            Vlad needed to know about the appearance of Hyde. William didn’t know whether he would be able to do much good, but perhaps his presence would subdue Hyde for a moment.

            He found Vlad alone in the study, which was instantly alarming. He had expected Vlad to be watching Dorian, as agreed.

            “Where is Grey?” he asked.

            “He was annoying, so I put him in the sarcophagus.”

            Vlad must have mistook William’s look of terror as concern that Dorian might escape, for then he said, “Oh you needn’t worry about him getting out. I don’t think he’s strong enough to lift the top by himself.”

            William tried not to think about Dorian, alone, stuffed into a mummy’s tomb. The thought alone made him feel claustrophobic. He shook the image from his mind and tried to remember why he had come looking for the vampire in the first place.

            “Hyde is here.”

            “Is he now?”

            “Yes. He’s in the lab with Victor, and they’re fighting.”

            “Mm.”

            Vlad didn’t seem particularly interested. He turned his back to William and stared at the fire. It was precisely the pose he had been in when William first came into the room and interrupted him. Perhaps it was because the skull was on the mantel, but William felt like he had just walked in on a deep conversation, rather than Dracula standing alone and silent.

            It seemed as if Dracula wanted to remain alone. Or maybe William was just afraid to be alone with him when he was like this. Either way, he shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, preparing himself to leave quickly if necessary.

            “Well, I just thought you’d want to know…” William muttered quietly, feeling like he should say something more but secretly hoping Vlad wouldn’t hear him, “I guess I’ll be going…”

            “So many interesting people in my home…” Vlad mused aloud. William froze in place, suddenly rooted to the spot by Vlad’s words. Was he speaking to him? Or had he been talking to himself?

            There was a long silence. William struggled with whether he should pretend he hadn’t heard him and leave the room, but the pause had already carried on too long for him to get away with that. The silence demanded a response from him.

            “Well, I guess technically Hyde and Jekyll are the same person, so really there’s no more than there was before…”

            “So many interesting people,” Vlad repeated. William thought he preferred an angry, snarling Vlad over this calm, inscrutable one. He continued, “I wonder, William. With all these interesting people working together toward some purpose, where exactly do you fit in?”

            William was used to these snide references to his uselessness from Vlad. He didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking, but he felt the need to defend himself either way.

            “There’s plenty of interest in being a werewolf, trust me.”

            “Yes, but it hasn’t done us much good has it?”

            “Victor needed me for his experiment, didn’t he? I gave a sample. I seem to remember you didn’t.”

            “Yes, you gave him some of your blood didn’t you?” Vlad finally turned around and looked at him. William didn’t think the red gleam in his eyes was a reflection from the fire. “Do you think he’ll be needing any more?”

            William’s fight or flight responses kicked into high gear. His palms felt sweaty, his heart was racing. He could feel little hairs on the back on his neck rising in anticipation. Every molecule of his body screamed at him to run, but he crushed the feeling. He tried to remain calm, at least on the surface. He knew it was dangerous to let Vlad catch on to his fear.

            “What do you mean?” he asked, acting casual.

            “I mean that I think you have finally served your purpose,” Vlad said, his voice so low that William had to strain to hear him. “And now that Frankenstein has what he needs from you, perhaps I can now view you as a gift from Y. I had assumed he forgot about me when he sent Dorian to give the rest of you breakfast. But perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps he sent you here to be a meal for me after…”

            William didn’t wait for him to finish his sentence. He bolted from the room, tearing down the hall to try to reach the others before he was caught. He was a naturally fast runner, adrenaline made him faster. Unfortunately, Vlad was faster still.

            The vampire caught him before William was even halfway to the dining room. He grabbed William by the shoulder and slammed him into the stone wall of the narrow hallway. William cried out in pain as the back of his head hit hard brick, then he screamed in anger as he felt Vlad’s hot breath on his neck, the sharp fangs piercing his flesh.

            He tried to push Vlad away, but the vampire was stronger than him. His hair was being gripped in one hand to pull his head away, exposing his throat. Vlad’s other arm rested heavily against his chest, pinning him to the wall. William tried kicking him but Vlad didn’t appear to feel the blows. He continued to swallow large mouthfuls of William’s blood.

            William wasn’t scared anymore. He was past that. He was furious. He couldn’t stand the indignity of his situation. What had he done to deserve any of this? He’d just been at the wrong place, at the wrong time. And when all he wanted to do was find help, he found himself here with a bunch of monsters. And now he was going to die like this, with a vampire sucking him dry…

            Perhaps it was anger which triggered it. Or maybe his body acted in defense to save his life. Either way, when William felt the familiar ache that signaled a transformation, he didn’t fight it. He welcomed it.

            It always started in the bones. Joints and tendons snapping to rearrange themselves. Toes elongating painfully until they ripped out of his shoes. His nails lengthened into sharp claws. Next his facial structure rearranged itself. He grew a short snout, the skin on his nose became rough, dark, and wet. His breathing sounded heavier now and harsh in his ears, which were now large and pointed. Dark brown fur erupted over his body, causing Vlad to pull away from him in disgust as the hair filled his mouth where he had been feeding. When William next tried to scream, it came out as an earsplitting howl.

            Vlad looked up at the werewolf, a beast towering over him by nearly a foot and a half when it stood at full height. William had been right when he described his attacker. This creature looked more bear than wolf. It turned its gold eyes on him and pulled back its black lips in a snarl. The light gleamed off its bright white fangs, slick with saliva. It wasn’t happy.

            “Well,” said Vlad. “Shit.”


	17. When Werewolves Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Vlad learns that when you bite a werewolf, he bites back.

            The werewolf stood snarling down at Vlad. It lifted its great, furry head to let out another howl before it swiped one of its huge paws at him. Vlad jumped back just in time, but the hallway was too narrow for a clean getaway. The claws missed his flesh, but his shirt was torn to shreds in one swipe. The werewolf’s claws were certainly very sharp.

            “I could use some help out here!” Vlad shouted, dodging another swipe of the werewolf’s paw. He knew they must have heard the howling, those bastards.

            He heard footsteps pounding down the hall toward him on his right, but he couldn’t afford to take his eyes off the rampaging werewolf for a second. It seemed determined to take his head off at all costs. He heard Frankenstein’s voice call out.

            “Oh God.! William! He’s transformed!”

            “Brilliant diagnosis, doctor!” sneered Vlad, barely missing the werewolf’s fangs this time.

            “But that shouldn’t be possible! The full moon isn’t for another week!”

            “Well, why don’t you sit the wolf down and explain that to him? I’m sure he’ll turn right back!”

            Any other biting comments Vlad might have had were cut off as the werewolf finally landed a blow. Vlad cursed as the sharp claws severed his skin, creating five deep gashes from his shoulder to his stomach.

            He stumbled and fell against the wall. He figured the werewolf would try to finish him off and braced himself for the next attack, but the animal dropped to all fours and whipped its head in the direction of Frankenstein. Vlad could see him clearly now over the raised hackles the werewolf’s back, and he hadn’t come alone.

            Victor was shielding Beth with his own body. Behind him stood a short man Vlad didn’t recognize. If Vinny was there, Vlad didn’t see him.

            Though he did hear him.

            “Don’t worry, guys! I got this!”

            He must have stripped down, because in the next moment the werewolf was clearly battling an adversary he couldn’t see. Victor was hurrying Beth to safety further down the hall while the short stranger laughed in open amusement. He stopped laughing when the werewolf managed to pin something to the floor with its front paws and began to sniff it questioningly. It opened is great, gaping jaws as if to take a large bite of its invisible prey.

            Vlad watched as the man grabbed a candlestick from the hall table nearby. He hurled it as hard as he could toward the werewolf. It hit the beast straight on top of its head, but it didn’t seem hurt. It merely shook its head, turned its attention toward the short man, and growled. The man growled back.

            Vlad’s wounds had long since healed while he watched this take place, and he figured now was the time to step back in. The werewolf was already closing in on the stranger. Feeling it was best to fight fire with fur, Vlad quickly shifted into his own wolf form. He was much smaller than the werewolf like this, but he was faster too, and he knew he would have the advantage in the small hallway.

            The werewolf yelped in pain as wolf-Vlad jumped onto his back and sank his teeth into its thick neck. His hold was no good, and he quickly jumped away to avoid the deadly swipe of the creature’s claws. He didn’t give it a chance to rest. He was soon leaping back again, biting at the werewolf’s legs. He kept moving, testing out the animal for a weak spot.

            Frankenstein had returned. Apparently he wasn’t as much of a coward as Vlad had previously believed. Beth was nowhere in sight, but Frankenstein had no doubt assured himself of her safety. He too was clutching a candlestick in his hand, only this one was not of iron.

            “Silver?” he shouted, holding it up in the air.

            Vlad barely dodged another attack from the werewolf and sort of barked at Frankenstein. He hoped it was enough for him to understand.          

            Frankenstein lobbed the candlestick at the werewolf, where it bounced off the furry body uselessly. Vlad gave a sort of groan and went for the werewolf’s throat again before it had a chance to notice Victor and attack.

            “You can’t just throw it at him!” the strange man was shouting at Victor, “The silver has to pierce the flesh of a werewolf for it to do any good!”

            “How the hell was I supposed to know that?” Frankenstein shouted back.

           “Guys, shut up!” came Vinny’s ringing voice again. The silver candlestick was hovering in midair. “I told you, I got this!”

            “But you so obviously didn’t!” the stranger protested. It didn’t do any good. Vinny was already on the move.

            “Vlad!” he yelled, “I need an opening!”

            It was the first thing Vinny ever said that actually made sense to him. He dove at the werewolf again scratching at his face and biting at his ears. The werewolf howled in pain and used his over-developed forepaws to catch him. This time, Vlad didn’t dodge.

            The werewolf held Vlad’s canine body between its paws and snarled at him. Vlad could feel the sharp claws start to pierce his body. He shifted back into his human form. His ribs felt like they were slowly being crushed, but he ignored the pain to shout, “NOW VINNY!”

            Vinny, invisible as always, jumped onto the werewolf’s back, wrapped an arm around its throat, and pressed the silver of the candlestick against the open wounds on its face. The animal howled again in agony and dropped Vlad. It tried to knock Vinny off but he held on tight, pressing the candlestick harder against the broken flesh. Vlad smelt burnt hair. The area where silver met fur was starting to smoke.

            Yelping in pain, the werewolf finally managed to dislodge Vinny by backing straight into the wall. Vinny fell to the floor with an “oomph.” Vlad was already bracing himself for another attack, but there was no need. The werewolf had relented. It sank to the ground with a whimper and a soft sigh, clutching its face in its forepaws. Vlad and the others watched as it slowly shifted back into the smaller body of William.

            Victor ran to the boy, crouching down next to him. William was shivering, his arms wrapped tight around his own body. He slowly swayed back and forth, seeing nothing and apparently not hearing any of Victor’s questions. There was a black and red burn on his face from where the silver had touched him, but the scratches and cuts he had received were superficial.

            “He made need some stitches. And that burn will definitely need treated,” Victor said with surprising calm. He seemed fine with the idea of treating a living person. Vlad wondered if his hesitation in the medical field only arose when dealing with dead test subjects.

            Victor was asking Vinny how he had fared.

            “Oh, fine I guess,” said the invisible man. “I mean, I feel a little sore here and there. I can’t really tell if I’m bleeding. We’ll know if it scabs.”

            “Really?”

            “Sure. It’s just like the fingernails.”

            Vlad didn’t have any idea what they were talking about. He was busy eyeing the stranger. William had been saying something to him about Jekyll before the fight… So this man must be Hyde. He was dressed in the clothes he had allowed Jekyll to borrow that first night, though they were far too big for his much smaller body. Hyde was ignoring him. His attention was on William.

“What made him transform?” he asked.

            Vlad shrugged. “I have no idea.”

            Victor’s head snapped in Vlad’s direction, he was eyeing him keenly. “He’s been bitten.”

            “Well, yes. I bit him plenty of times just now when he transformed. What was I supposed to do? Let the beast kill me?”

            Victor didn’t appear convinced. No doubt he had seen the marks on William’s neck – not wolf bites but two holes from the fangs of a vampire. But he didn’t say anything in front of the others. He was looking at Vlad’s shirt, or what remained of it.

            “Any lasting injuries?”

            “None whatsoever,” Vlad replied. He was slightly proud of it.

            “Your healing capabilities are remarkable.” Vlad acknowledged the compliment with a slight bow. “Pity we can’t sample some of your blood to assist us with the mummy.”

            “Yes, a pity.”

            Victor glared at him, but Vlad refused to budge on this. They could have his blood over his dead body. But even then, they’d have to work fast, as he would probably combust into ash. Probably. He wasn’t exactly sure, having never died before. But that was how the rumors went.

            “I think,” interrupted Hyde, “That the boy has gone into shock.”

            He didn’t sound particularly alarmed by this. He commented on it the same way others might talk about the weather. But Victor reacted quickly. He ordered Vinny to help him lift William to his feet. The tattered remains of his shoes dragged from his feet as they slowly walked him down the hall. Like Vlad, his shirt had been obliterated, though his had been a result of the transformation. He was sweating and looked slightly green - a real mess.

            Not to mention he was missing quite a lot of blood.

            Vlad wandered back into the study and began searching around the room. To his slight annoyance, Hyde followed him.

            “What are you doing?” he asked Vlad.

            “Searching for a blanket. Isn’t that what people do when someone goes into shock? They give them a blanket?”

            “So you forcefully drink someone’s blood, trigger a traumatizing transformation, and then offer him a blanket? Wow, nice guy.”

            Vlad straightened up to his full height, which was considerably taller than Hyde. In his hand he clutched a dusty, thin blanket he had found under one of the sofas. He didn’t attempt to deny what Hyde was accusing him of. After all, he did drink William’s blood, and he didn’t regret it. The small amount he’d been able to drink was enough to quench his thirst, and the subsequent fight had just helped pump his newly enriched heart. He felt years younger.

            So, feeling powerful and dangerous, he looked down at this other man and asked him what his point was.

            Hyde did not appear intimidated. He and Jekyll shared that in common. He made a slight “tsk-ing” sound with his tongue that Vlad found irritating.

            “Too soon, Vlad.  You’ve been too hasty. What if you had killed the boy?”

            “What would it matter? He’s useless.”

            “Are you sure?”

            Vlad said nothing. He merely stared at the man, waiting for him to make his next point. He obviously had something he wanted to say.

            “Let’s say that Victor’s attempt to resurrect the mummy fails. What are you going to do then?”

            “It won’t fail.”

            “My compliments. You have more faith in him than I do. But I am a realist, Vlad. We need to keep William alive and in one piece, at least for the time being. We may need him for plan B.”

            “Plan B?” Vlad asked, “And what exactly is that?”

            Hyde shrugged his narrow shoulders, “We’ll know that when the time comes won’t we?”

            There was something so unpleasant about this man. Vlad knew he was the infamous Hyde, of course. He didn’t need an introduction for that. But he had expected something more obviously evil. Hyde didn’t seem evil. His unpleasantness was more… _sinister_.

            “Right,” Vlad said, pleased with his own assessment of this stranger’s character, “And while I’ve got you here, there’s been something I and the others have been meaning to ask you.”

            “You want to know if I’m Y, is that it? The answer is no, of course. And I’m not the one responsible for bringing everyone here, either. Dorian has already emphatically established that that was him.”

            “Then if you aren’t the mastermind, who the hell are you?”

            “I’m Henry Jekyll.” Hyde said simply.

            “That’s not what I meant. I meant what the hell are you doing here?”

            “Then you should have just said that. And I was sent for, same as all of you. Any more questions?”

            “No,” Vlad said. He wadded up the blanket and threw it in Hyde’s face. Hyde caught it before it fell down to the ground. “Now get out of my sight before I decide to feed on you as well.”

            Hyde made no move to leave right away. “Can I ask you a question now?”

            “No.”

            “Too bad. I’m going to anyway. Why did you choose William, of all people? Wouldn’t Frankenstein’s wife be more your style?”

            Vlad let out a dry laugh. He wasn’t even sure Beth had blood! She was certainly _not_ human. But he didn’t say any of this to Hyde. The man was clearly keeping secrets of his own. Vlad saw no reason to share any more of his.

            When Hyde saw that Vlad had no intention of answering his question, he shrugged and turned to leave the room.

            “By the way, where’s Dorian?” he asked.

            Vlad stopped laughing, “He’s in a safe place.”

            “I think I’d like to talk to him.”

            “About what?”

            “I dunno. I just want to talk to him.”

            “Why?”

            Hyde offered a deep sigh. “I am a man controlled by his whimsy. I just want to talk to him, is all. I don’t really have a reason. But if you won’t allow me to do it, then that’s just going to make me want to do it more.”

            “You call that whimsy?” Vlad said, chuckling slightly, “I call that spite.”

            “Whimsy, spite. Same thing, really. The only difference between the two is how much I’ll be laughing when I do it.”

            Vlad laughed aloud at this. He was surprised to hear genuine amusement. “You know something, you may be a sneaking, sinister spy, but I think I like you better than Jekyll.”

            “I am Jekyll.”

            “You don’t look like Jekyll.”

            “Then you don’t know what Jekyll looks like.”

            Vlad chucked. Hyde’s banter and the high he was still experiencing from William’s blood was putting him in a generous mood. “Well, let’s take you to see Grey,” he said.

            “No thanks. I’ve lost interest.”

            “Oh? That was fast.”

            “It’s how I roll. I think I’d rather go see the werewolf you attacked. He should be recovering from the shock right about now.”

            “Fine. Just one last question before you go. If you really aren’t Y, then who do you think he is?”

            Hyde considered the question, “The other me, the one you call Jekyll, thinks it’s me that’s behind it all. But I’m not Y. And I think Dorian is telling the truth when he says it isn’t him. Y isn’t the kind of person to do his own dirty work, not with an elaborate scheme like this. So Dorian is beyond suspicion. Personally, I don’t think we’ve seen Y yet.”

            “Interesting. But it’s exactly what I would expect you to say if you were Y. Nice to push the blame onto someone who isn’t here. Any suggestions for what monster he is?”

            “Beg pardon?”

            “Well, with Grey here, we have everyone represented. Do I need to run through the list again?”

            “No. I think I’ve got it.”

            “So what’s left?”

            Hyde seemed at a loss of what to say. Clearly, he had not expected this question. Vlad watched him carefully, waiting to see if Hyde would trip up and say something to expose himself. Instead, Hyde said suddenly, “Bigfoot.”

            Vlad was the one who was surprised instead. “Excuse me?”

            “Or aliens. It’s the only possible solution. That, or demons if one is religiously inclined. This seems like the kind of thing a demon would think up, don’t you think?”

            “I can’t say. I’ve never met a demon.”

            “Haven’t you? Oh well, I suppose neither have I.”

            They stood there, staring at one another. Without warning, they both burst out laughing. Hyde’s laugh was like his voice, hoarse and with a whispering quality. Vlad didn’t know it was possible to laugh in a whisper.

            “You really are all right, Hyde.” Vlad said, and he meant it. “I suppose if I must be trapped here, at least it’s some consolation to talk to you. A step up from Vinny, anyway.”

           “I’ll try to take that as a compliment, but I already told you, I’m not Hyde. I’m the same person I was before, just lacking some of my better qualities.”  
            “Then what am I supposed to call you?”

            “You can call me Henry. If you call the other me Jekyll, then it’s fine to use my first name when its only me.”

            “Or I can call you jackass and have done with it.”

            “Then there would be no way to distinguish if you’re talking to me or to Vinny. Are you going to come with me to see the werewolf or not?”

            Vlad was taken aback by Hyde’s abrupt change in topic. He did say that he was directed by impulse, so maybe he was just growing bored with their conversation and wished to do something else. Vlad had been enjoying this pointless banter in spite of himself, but he had no intention of following Hyde. He realized suddenly that maybe he had been remiss in allowing himself to be so casual with Hyde. It could have been the bloodlust getting to him. He was drunk on his first taste of blood in several days. He tried to regain some of his usual swagger, and sneered mockingly at Hyde.

            “Do you expect me to go and apologize?”

            Now it was Hyde’s turn to look surprised. He was a man who wore his emotions on his sleeve. Vlad would remember that. It should be easy in the future to tell if he was lying.

            “No. I myself never make apologies, so I don’t see why I should expect them from you. I’m just saying, I’m gonna go see the werewolf. Either you come with me, or we’re done talking.”

            “I’ll stay.” Vlad pointed to the blanket in Hyde’s hands. “You take that to him.”

            Hyde grinned, “OK, mister nice guy. I’ll put in a good word for you.”

            “Don’t bother.”

            “Oh, but I will. He’s the plan B, remember? If we’re going to be working together, we might as well all try to get along. In the interest of cooperation.”

            There was something significant in his look that made Vlad eye him more critically. Was he insinuating that Vlad would have to give up some of his blood?

           He didn’t get a chance to ask. Hyde was already leaving, carrying the blanket with him. Vlad shook his head. Had he learned anything at all from their discussion? It was hard to tell. A part of him liked Hyde, the way you like an ugly dog simply because it is so ugly. Hyde offered no apologies for the way he was, and he spoke his mind so freely. But did he really? Or was it all an act?

            He was sure Hyde was hiding something, but who among them didn’t have some secrets they’d rather keep hidden?

            Vlad turned toward the fire, unconsciously resuming the same pose and attitude William had found him in earlier that night. His thoughts turned back to the topic he had been ruminating over before the interruption. He had not been thinking of the overwhelming hunger that had gnawed at his stomach. The question he had been considering what the same he had been plagued by since that first night when the unwanted guests had arrived. Who was Y, and how could he get his hands on him to enact his revenge?

He had demanded an answer to this question from Dorian, and it was his response that had provoked Vlad, getting him shut up in the sarcophagus. Dorian had laughed at him when he asked it. “You’ll never touch him,” he had said mockingly, “He’s a phantom.”


	18. The Pact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the team decides to take care of business, and Vinny is cast under suspicion.

            “He could have killed you,” Hyde said, handing William a tattered blanket.

            William glared at him, but he took the offering. He pulled the blanket close around his bare shoulders and winced slightly. His memory of what had happened while he was a wolf was fuzzy, but he was sure the bruises that were forming would serve as painful reminders.

            “You don’t say? Well, it sure feels like he tried.”

            “Quit pouting and think for a second. _He could have killed you_. I probably would have, if I was in his shoes.”

            “So what? Am I supposed to thank him for beating the shit out of me? ‘Hey Vlad, thanks for not murdering me after drinking my blood and forcing me to turn into a werewolf. That was real swell of you.’”

            Hyde chuckled. “No, I don’t think you need to thank him… And I don’t think he should apologize to you either.”

William quirked an eyebrow at him. He hadn’t said anything about asking Vlad for an apology. Vlad didn’t seem capable of making one, and William wouldn’t accept it even if he did.

Hyde saw the look of stubborn irritation on William’s face and sighed. William could see the resemblance between Hyde and Jekyll for an instant, but then it was gone. He continued, “I’m just saying that he _could_ have killed you and he _didn’t_. And you were completely out of control. If he had killed you, he would have had a justifiable excuse. But he didn’t do it. He let you live.”

            “So what exactly are you saying? He’s suddenly a good guy because he had a chance to murder me and he didn’t take it? Oh yeah. He’s a saint.”

            “No. I don’t think he’s a good guy. Maybe he’s as bad as me. And I’m sure he hates us. I’m not saying he should be forgiven for anything he’s said or done…” Hyde trailed off. With a confused look in his face, he turned toward Vinny, “What was I saying?”

            “Er… That Vlad’s bark is worse than his bite?”

            “Yes, that’s it exactly!”

            William scoffed. “I’ve felt his bite. Trust me, it sucks.”

            “Maybe so, but you aren’t dead, are you?” said Vinny, the smile evident in his tone if not visible in his face.

            But William wasn’t joking. “Did you ever stop to think that maybe I would be dead if the rest of you hadn’t shown up? He wouldn’t have hesitated to kill me to defend himself, I’m sure of it.”

            Hyde gave a careless shrug. “Well, yeah. I’d kill you too if you were trying to kill me.”

            “Thanks. Thanks a lot.”

            “I already told you to stop with the pouting.”

            “Yeah, Will,” said Vinny cajolingly, “You can’t blame him for defending himself from a werewolf attack.”

            This was the final straw. William exploded. “I was only attacking because he attacked me first! It was self-defense!”

            “You turned into a great big monster in self-defense?” Hyde asked calmly, redirecting William’s anger away from Vinny.

            William wanted to scream at him, too, but Hyde’s calm demeanor brought William back to his senses. He hadn’t realized he’d risen from his chair, or that the blanket he’d been clinging to so desperately had fallen from his shoulders. He didn’t feel like he needed it anymore. He returned to his seat with a huff.

            “I must have,” he said in response to Hyde’s question. He was struggling not to appear as if he were pouting any longer. He kept seeing little similarities between Hyde and Jekyll, especially how serene Hyde could be in situations like this. It was confusing him.

“I mean, I transformed, and it’s not even close to the full moon. That hasn’t happened before. Something must have triggered it.”

            “So you didn’t do it yourself?” asked Vinny.

            “No, of course not. I don’t know how to control it. And even if I could, I’d never transform by choice.”

            “Really? Even if it meant you would die?”

            William didn’t like the eager tone in Hyde’s voice. This was one of the moments where he couldn’t see Jekyll in Hyde at all. Jekyll would know what it was like to turn into a monster against his will. He would have understood how William was feeling in this moment…

            He was spared having to answer Hyde’s impertinent question by the reappearance of Victor, who had stepped out to inform Beth of what had happened. She followed close behind him, casting a brief smile toward William to show her concern for him. William found himself wishing he could return the smile, but he was still feeling too low after his fight with the vampire and subsequent transformation.

            “How goes the research, Victor?” he asked instead, hoping to steer the flow of conversation away from himself and the mishap with the vampire.

            Victor and Beth exchanged glances before Victor gave a heavy groan.

            “You might as well know… It’s at a standstill. I’m fairly certain I could not move forward even if I did have your cooperation, Hyde.”

            “Henry,” Hyde corrected, “And anyway, what makes you say that?”

            “I say that because it’s not your cooperation I need now, it’s Vlad’s. And of course he is not willing to offer up a sample of his blood.”

            “I’ll get it for you,” William growled through clenched teeth.

            “No, you most certainly will not,” said Victor.

            “Why not?”

            “Because you just fought with the man, and look at you! Not only is your judgement clouded, but clearly Vlad has the advantage in a fight. You had to be carried here, while he walked away unassisted. And unfortunately it is precisely his healing capability that is missing from my research.”

            “I thought the mummy could already heal himself,” William said. “Why do you need Vlad’s blood for that?”

            “His flesh heals when it’s cut, yes. But complete regeneration? No. The mummification process has left this body, remarkable as it is, in very bad shape.”

            Victor paused, distracted for a moment by Beth’s activities behind him. She was busy uncovering the mummy, continuing whatever work she was bent on while the men spoke. Victor allowed himself one of the infrequent glances he gave the corpse. He left the actual hands-on work to his lovely assistant, and rarely viewed samples not under a microscope.

            “The missing organs are a problem, of course. And the body has been dried. There is a stunning lack of blood in his veins. He will need both if his body is to move again. I have already tried giving him a transfusion of my blood, but his cells are rejecting it. My concern is that even if I replace the organs with the ones Dorian provided, the body will reject those, too. The same cells that repair damage to the body so quickly must be preventing unknown cells from making any alterations.

            “But Vlad’s wounds heal just as quickly as the mummy’s. My speculation is that his blood may be compatible with the mummy’s body, which would allow me to fuse the new organs into the old system, and bind them permanently together. The mummy’s healing powers paired with Vlad’s regenerating blood would do the rest from there, and the mummy could live again.

            “Such at least is my hypothesis,” Victor concluded.

            “Your hypothesis?” Hyde said in exasperation, “So you don’t really know if it will work?”

            “Well I will never know unless I can study Vlad’s blood first.” Victor hissed. He was still clearly disturbed by the presence of Hyde. William thought that Hyde seemed sort of used to this reaction.

            “And if you do get your sample, and you’re still wrong?” Vinny asked, “What then?”

            “Then I should hope Y has some other plan to make this work.”

           William and the others stared at Victor. He stared back at them before turning his back with a frustrated sigh. He rested both hands on the wooden table where the mummy lay and hung his head. His next words were slow, deliberate.

            “I can’t afford to make any mistakes. I know that. If the mummy’s body rejects the organs I place in him, then that’s it. There are no replacements… But I firmly believe what I have said from the beginning. Y chose each of us for a reason. All of us serve some purpose here. It is my belief that Y foresaw this difficulty, and placed us here, in Vlad’s castle, so that I could have access to his blood. Perhaps I’m wrong, but if that is the case, Y should know that if I make a mistake, I risk corrupting his entire plan. He would send me some message, wouldn’t he? A sign to steer me on the right path. But no message has arrived, so my theory must be correct.”

            “Except for one thing. We have Y’s messenger boy trapped here with us.”

            “We could ask Dorian,” William suggested, “Vlad’s got him holed up in the sarcophagus. It’s still down there in the cellar.”

            “Right. Any volunteers who want to go down there?” Vinny asked, his tone implying that he wasn’t keen on the idea.

            “I’ll go get him,” Hyde said simply. “I wanted to talk to him earlier, anyway. He’s hasn’t met… Well, this version of me anyway.”

            “I’ll go with you,” Victor said, watching Hyde with suspicion.

            “We should all go,” said William, standing slowly from his chair. “It’ll take all of us to push that stone off the top. From now on, we do this together.”

            He could see the hesitation in Victor’s face as he looked at Hyde. It was clear he didn’t trust the man. William still wasn’t sure he did either, but he couldn’t help but notice those frequent moments of similarity between the man before him and the Jekyll he had come to know over the past few days. Hyde was unpleasant and unsettling to be around, but deep down he was the same as Jekyll. William would have to trust that they were motivated by the same cause. Hyde had to want freedom just as much as the rest of them.

            “We’ll make a promise,” he said, holding out the hand that had received the smallest amount of damage during the fight. “No more secrets. We’re in this together, or not at all.”

            Victor hesitated only a second longer, then he placed his hand over William’s, “Alright. Together. After all, I will need everyone’s support to get through this.”

            Beth was quick to join them, placing her hand over her husbands without a word, but with a radiant smile directed toward William. Then she looked at Hyde. They all did.

            Hyde rolled his eyes at them, “You’re a bunch of tossers, do you know that? But I suppose I got myself into this mess. I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

            He added his hand to theirs. There was only one person left out.

            “Vinny, what about you?”

            Silence greeted William’s question. The four looked around the room, but no familiar hollow-man figure greeted them.

            “Yeah,” said Hyde with a chuckle, “He slipped out a while ago, friend.”

* * *

 

             “Alright, on the count of three.”

            On William’s signal, they pushed as a group, sliding the heavy stone away until a space large enough for someone to climb though was open. Dorian blinked up at them from the sudden light, he gripped William’s hand and allowed himself to be pulled out of the tomb.

            “What day is it?” he asked.

            “You’ve only been in there a few hours.”

            “That so? Pity. I was sleeping. I had hoped that I would sleep through the whole thing. Why did you wake me?”

            “So he hasn’t been down here?”

            “Who? The vampire? I haven’t seen him since he put me in the box.”

            “No. Vinny. He didn’t come down and try to talk to you?”

            “No.”

            William glanced at the others. Vinny hadn’t been seen since he slipped away. Hyde had said he saw him go, but he had no idea where he was going. It worried William. He had thought Vinny was suspicious from the very beginning, but now he was starting to look truly guilty. What did it mean that he had left them at that crucial moment? And was he there now, watching all of them unseen?

            “Are you Y’s only servant?” Frankenstein asked suddenly.

            “As far as I know,” Dorian said. He was studying them all curiously, reading their expressions. “Why? What’s happened?”

            “Nothing,” said William quickly. “We just wanted to know if there was any other way for Y to send us a message other than through you.”

            Dorian hesitated. It was clear that he was evaluating his options. Was it in his best interest to share information with them or not? He was a calculating man.

            “Of course it is,” Dorian said simply. William was sure he was choosing his words carefully, though his attitude was casual. “I told you before, didn’t I? I received letters from Y before he stole my portrait. And after that, I received all of my orders in the form of a letter. I see no reason why he couldn’t bestow the same courtesy on all of you.”

            “There, you see?” Victor said, sitting down on the top of Vlad’s coffin. William thought it terribly daring of him.

            “And you never saw him?” Hyde asked, “Y never appeared before you in person?”

            Dorian’s gaze snapped in Hyde’s direction. He eyed him coldly, “And you are?”

            “Henry Jekyll, at your service. We’ve already met, but I looked a bit different earlier.”

            Dorian surveyed Hyde up and down, his eyebrows raised, “I see. Well, in answer to your question Mr. Jekyll…”

            Hyde interrupted, “It's doctor, actually. But Henry’s just fine.”

            “ _Henry._ As I was saying, I never did see Y in person. Just the letters, and my missing portrait as proof that such a man really exists.”

            “So you don’t know who he is?” William asked.

            Dorian searched his face, as if looking for something significant in his expression, or perhaps some hidden meaning behind his words, “No. I do not.”

            _He’s lying._ William thought suddenly, but he had no way to prove it. He wasn’t even sure how he knew. Maybe it was in the way he looked when he said it, but as usual his expressions were fleeting, there one instant and gone the next. His face as settled back into a beautiful mask.

            “Dorian,” Victor said, trying with great strength to speak evenly, “Now is not the time for secrets. We need your help. If you know something about this man or his plans for the mummy, you need to tell us.”

            Dorian shook his head. “I just want my picture back,” he said quietly. “Serving Y is the surest way of doing that.”

            “Can’t you do both?” Beth asked suddenly. The men all turned to face her, confusion on all faces. “It seems to me that any action which furthers Victor’s research puts you one step closer toward earning your picture back, Mr. Grey.”

            Dorian stared at her. William wondered if he was as captivated by her beauty as the rest of them had been at one point or another. But then again, Dorian seemed like the type who was only interested in his own beauty.

            Whatever his thoughts or feelings on the matter, his next words came as a surprise to them all.

            “What must I do?”


	19. A Willing Victim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which blood is freely shared among friends.

            Vlad was on guard duty again. He chose not to place Dorian in the sarcophagus this time, though the threat of putting him back there hung in the air between them. Dorian didn’t seem to care.

            He was lying across one of the antique sofas, one leg thrown over the back, the other resting so that his toes faced the fire. He had one arm tucked languidly behind his head while the other gently trailed along the carpet as he swung it back and forth.

            “It was stupid of you actually, attacking the werewolf like that,” he said in continuation of his seemingly endless tirade against Vlad’s faults. He was unusually talkative this evening.

            Vlad sat across from him in his favorite armchair. He thought about telling Dorian to shut up, but he didn’t bother. He was in no mood for talking.

            “I mean, what were you thinking? Or did you even think at all?”

            Still Vlad remained silent. He was only partially listening to Dorian now. The man’s voice quietly buzzed in his ears. Annoying, like that of a fly, but otherwise harmless.

            He was thinking about that night. It had felt wonderful after he had taken some of William’s blood. He hadn’t known werewolf blood could be so potent, so powerful. But its effects were short lived. William’s transformation had unhappily interrupted his feast. Only two nights had passed since then, but it might as well have been a month for Vlad. He was starving again.

He was glad that he did not have a reflection, for he knew what he would see. The white in his hair must have already returned, and all color lost from his face. Perhaps only his lips would remain blood red, but small and thin, barely covering his protruding fangs. He would need to feed again, and soon.

But the others wouldn’t let him near William now. They had taken to staying together in a group. Even Hyde was with them. Vinny, however, had not been seen since that night. The others rarely spoke of him, but when they did it was in hushed voices, drenched in suspicion. Perhaps if Vlad could find him, Vinny would now be considered fair game?

            “Dracula, are you listening to me?”

            Vlad flinched. Dorian was kneeling on the floor directly in front of him. Vlad hadn’t even heard him move. The man had to be as stealthy as a cat.

            Dorian continued to stare up at him from the floor, one leg drawn up against his chest so that he could rest his chin on his knee. His expression was blank, as usual, but very beautiful. Vlad reflected not for the first time that it was a shame such a face should rest with one so… irritating.

            “I was telling you how stupid you are. I hope you were listening.”

            There it was. Spiteful, vindictive words spouting from a young, cherubic face. At least Vlad had the decency to scowl at someone when he insulted them.

            “Do you want to go back in the box again?”

            “I could use a nap, I suppose.”

            Clearly, the box was no longer a sufficient threat for him. Vlad considered, again not for the first time, whether he should follow through with his threat to torture him. But then Dorian would probably scream, and the others would come running to stop him. Of course, they wouldn’t see Dorian Gray as the enemy he was. They would blame Vlad again, just as they were blaming him for William’s transformation.

Though it wasn’t as if  he cared that no one was speaking to him. No, he preferred it that way…

            Vlad lost his train of thought. Dorian had shifted his position while he’d allowed his mind to wander. He now rested on both knees, his elbows propped on Vlad’s thighs. He was still staring at him, as if he was trying to capture and hold Vlad’s gaze. Vlad thought of pythons, and how they are rumored to hypnotize their prey before striking.

            He didn’t like Dorian’s proximity to him. But it was obvious that Dorian was trying to illicit a response from Vlad, and he was determined not to comply. Rather than lash out, he sat still, willing his face to become as blank and expressionless as Dorian’s own.

            “What are you doing?”

            “Pay attention, Dracula,” Dorian said, lifting one hand in front of his face and snapping his fingers. “It’s not healthy to spend so much time in your head. You’ll miss out on this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

            “And what would that be?”

            “I want you to drink from me.”

            He had to admit. He didn’t see this one coming. He expected this sort of desperate attention-seeking behavior from Vinny, but not from Dorian. Perhaps he had underestimated the man’s depravity.

            “No.”

            It was Dorian’s turn to look surprised, and also vaguely insulted. “What’s the matter, Vlad? Don’t I look appetizing to you?”

            Vlad hated to admit it, but he did. Strictly speaking, Dorian didn’t run toward his usual tastes. But he looked young, which of course he wasn’t, and yet looks go a long way. Dorian was still rosy with the blush of youth and vitality. And with the lack of choices currently present for Vlad, someone like Dorian looked delicious. Especially when compared to Vinny.

            “Why do you continue to deny yourself what you really want?” Dorian continued.

            “And what makes you think you know what I want?”

            Dorian’s smirk did not belong on the face of someone so seemingly young and innocent. “I know a lot about what men desire. I’ve dedicated my life to the pursuit of my own hedonistic pleasures… But you are different from me, aren’t you? You’re an interesting case, Vlad. You want – no, _need_ blood. And it’s my responsibility to see that you get it.”

            Vlad wanted to tell him that he was wrong. What he really wanted was the peace and quiet of his own self-imposed solitude once again. But, barring that, he would need more blood before long.

            “Your responsibility?” he asked, picking up the train from where Dorian had left off.

            “Of course. Do you really think I would go throwing myself at you if I hadn’t been ordered to do so by Y? I mean, look at me.” Dorian spread his arms wide to display his own supple body, which he clearly estimated as too good to offer an old vampire under normal circumstances.

            “And what makes Y so concerned about my well-being?”

            “You’re the key to his plan’s success, Vlad. Keeping you happy and healthy is of the utmost importance.”

            Vlad processed this fresh hint into the motives of Y. Was Dorian telling the truth? Did Y truly value him that much? Dorian’s words rang like false flattery in his ears. And yet in Vlad’s opinion, Dorian was the sort of person to disguise the truth by presenting it as a lie. He decided to test him.

            “And what makes me so important to Y’s plans?” he asked.

            Dorian smiled at him and pushed himself up onto his knees, moving his face close until it was only a few inches away from Vlad’s. This close, Vlad could smell the all too human scents of sweat and blood on him.

            “It would be better for me to show you,” he whispered, baring his neck invitingly. Vlad could see the pulse beating in his exposed vein. The temptation was too much to bear.

            He gripped both of Dorian’s arms and pulled him into his lap. He brought his face close and bit roughly into Dorian’s throat. Vlad heard him gasp at the sudden, sharp pain. The sound incensed him further, and he stared to lose himself in the blood-lust.

            Oh yes, this is bliss.

            It was different from his experience with William. Then he had been rushed, and fought for every drop of blood. Now he could take his time, enjoy the taste, the heat of the red liquid pouring past his lips. He closed his eyes as he drank his fill. True, Dorian’s blood lacked the potency of the werewolf’s, but this was… this was… Treachery.

He felt the slight sting in his own neck and knew what was happening, but the blood binge made him feel foggy and he was slow to react. Dorian pulled the needle from Vlad’s neck and ripped himself from the vampire’s grasp. He fled from the room, unhindered by the blood loss he had just suffered. Did his missing painting correct such internal changes as well as the external ones? Even as he ran, Vlad could see that the wound on Dorian’s neck had already disappeared.

Before Vlad could even think to respond, Dorian was already halfway down the hall. As soon as he regained his senses, Vlad rocketed out of his chair and sprinted after him. Dorian had stolen his blood.

            Dorian may have been immortal, but he lacked a vampire’s speed, Vlad caught him before the man could reach the laboratory where Victor waited with Beth. He snatched one of Dorian’s arms in both hands with a strength he hoped would break the bone, but to his horror Dorian immediately threw the syringe full of his blood to William, who waited nearby.

            He saw the werewolf spare him one triumphant glance, and then he disappeared behind the heavy oak doors of the dining room, slamming them shut behind them.

            There was no point in taking his anger out on Dorian. He would recover from the damage too quickly. However, that didn’t stop Vlad from vowing to find new and inventive forms of punishment for him at a later time. He released Dorian and made for the door to the newly christened lab.

            He was determined that this would not be like his attempts to flee the castle on the first night. This door, heavy and thick as it may have been, would not stop him from entering and taking back what was his. He placed his palms flat against the door and gave one powerful push.

            The doors groaned, creaked, and budged a little, but they did not give. Vlad realized quickly that this was William’s doing. The werewolf was on the other side of the door, exerting his full strength to prevent Vlad from entering. Vlad’s anger at this fresh insult to his power only served to strengthen his next attack, and he heard Victor cry out to William on the other side, “For god’s sake, get away from there! Can’t you see he’s going to bring those doors down on top of you?”

            William managed to skitter away just in time. The doors did not fall completely off their hinges, but Vlad managed to bust the old lock. The doors whipped open and violently banged against the stone walls on either side of the doorway.

            William had moved in front of Victor and Beth, perhaps thinking to earn back some of his lost masculinity by protecting the others from an irate vampire. Vlad was certain that in his human form, he could crush William with one hand. And with the mood he was now in, he was interested in giving it a try.

            A second fight with the werewolf was not to be. Victor skirted around William’s side and stood between them, ignoring William’s protests.

            “Vlad, be reasonable.”

            Vlad spat at him.

            Victor closed his eyes against the indignity and continued, “I have gotten nowhere in this study without your blood. We need your cooperation in this.”

            “Cooperation?” Vlad said, spitting again, this time on the floor. He wished he could get the taste of Dorian’s blood out of his mouth. “Do you call theft cooperation?”

            “I’m sorry, Vlad, but you gave us no choice! How can you expect me to meet your demands of getting us out as fast as possible if you refuse me the means to perform my work? What are you afraid is going to happen?”

            Vlad didn’t answer. To him the answer was painfully obvious. The blood is the life. It’s where his power originated. To give it to this corpse, this unknown entity, risked the possibility of creating another vampire, perhaps one even more powerful than himself.

            When Victor saw that Vlad had no intention of responding, he continued slowly, “Your blood may be the only chance I have of getting these organs into that body successfully. I can’t bring him back otherwise. You have to at least let me use this sample.”

            “And what if it works?” Vlad asked, his voice deadpan. “What if my blood is compatible, what then? You’ll need more? Blood transfusions? Do you expect me to give you everything you’ll need?”

            “Yes,” Victor said, “Because I am giving everything I have to do this!”

            His anguished tone might have moved other hearts, but Vlad remained untouched. It was William’s quietly murmured curse that earned his silent approval.

            “Jesus. We’re never going to get out of here, are we?”

            Forever had never frightened Vlad as much as the idea of spending it locked in a castle with his current company. Escape had to be worth the risk of creating a vampire monster. After all, if worst came to worst, Vlad could just kill the thing once it was brought to life. Or best case scenario, it would become someone else’s problem.

            Vlad turned away from the others and marched toward the nearest chair. He flopped into it, causing the chair legs to scrape across the floor with a loud, sharp squeak. Vlad enjoyed the sight of Victor and William flinching in response.

            “Fine, do your little experiment, doctor. And do it quickly. I will not be banished this time. I intend to see this through to the end.”

            He expected to see chagrin or perhaps relief on the doctor’s face, but all he saw was resigned dread. Here was a man doing what he felt must be done, but who obviously took no pride in his work. Good. Vlad was pleased to see that he wasn’t the only miserable one.

* * *

 

            “It’s a match,” Victor said, his voice barely above a whisper. “We can use this. We can use this to reanimate the mummy.”

            There were no loud cheers or fanfares to welcome this announcement. William and Vlad merely exchanged two exhausted smiles before William realized he was staring at his mortal enemy and looked away, scowling. Vlad’s grin widened.

            “How soon can you begin?” Vlad asked. He did not feel the need to say that he would be willing to give as much of his blood as was necessary to assist the doctor in finishing his work.

            But Victor was in no shape to continue. He straightened up from bending over the microscope, rubbing his eyes, index finger and thumb pinching the bridge of his nose.

            “Not tonight,” he said. “Tomorrow, I think.”

            “Tomorrow. Always tomorrow.” Vlad said with scorn.

            “I can’t afford to make mistakes. I think I’ve said that already. And I’m too exhausted to go on with it tonight. It will have to wait. But it will work. I’m sure of it.”

            “I second Victor’s decision,” Beth said. “You all look like you could use some rest. And Vlad, the sun will be rising soon.”

            Vlad thanked her for the reminder, all the while thinking that she alone seemed untouched by fatigue. She looked just fine, better than them all actually, with the possible exception of Dorian. He knew it would be Beth, not Victor, who really performed the operation. He wondered why Beth couldn’t stay up to do the work herself if she was so perky. But he didn’t voice this opinion out loud. No doubt Victor wanted to be there to “supervise.”

            “Fine, I’m going to bed.” Vlad said, “Don’t forget that one of you needs to watch Dorian during the day.”

            William suddenly shot out of his chair. A moment ago, he had been on the point of dozing off, but now he had the startled look of someone woken by a bucket of ice water.

            “Problem,” he said, “Big problem.”

            “What is it, William?”

            “Has anyone seen Dorian?”


	20. The Bad, the Worse, and Vinny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian and Hyde compare the sizes of their manhood (figuratively) and Vinny displays certain features of his anatomy to his reluctant friend (literally).

            Dorian crept carefully down the hall. At every few steps, he would slip into an alcove or recessed doorway and check behind him, making sure that he hadn’t been followed. Luck was on his side. It appeared that his absence continued to go unnoticed by the others. The only thing he couldn’t account for was Vinny. No one had seen the invisible man since William’s transformation the other night. Dorian didn’t like that he could be hiding anywhere, watching his every move, but he didn’t think he’d have another chance like this. He just hoped that Vinny had been drawn to the commotion in the lab and was busy spying on the others at that moment.

           He made his way stealthily, but with haste, toward the front door. He wasn’t sure it would open for him now.  Since his capture, every other attempt had failed. But perhaps now that he had assisted the others with obtaining a blood sample from Vlad, Y would be forgiving…

            Clinging to this fragile thread of hope, he stood before the door. He half expected someone to stop him by now, but no one had. He tried to suppress the feeling of triumph bubbling up prematurely inside of him, and wasted no time in trying the knob. It twisted easily beneath his hand, but when he pushed his weight against the door, it wouldn’t budge.

            Someone chuckled behind his back, and a cruel voice asked, “Going somewhere, Mr. Gray?”

            When he turned, he saw Hyde leaning against the wall directly across from him, a grin on his face like a jailhouse snitch catching an inmate sneaking a cigarette.

            “I was planning on it,” Dorian said with bland honesty. He tried not to let his disappointment how. “But the door still won’t open for me. Probably because you’re here.”

            “Me? What have I got to do with it?”

            “Y is trying to keep you all here, isn’t he? So he’s not going to let me out if one of you is always hovering around.”

            “Don’t sulk, Mr. Gray. You’ve only tried the one door. Why not give the others a try?”

            Nettled by Hyde’s teasing, Dorian snapped at him, “There’s no point. If this won’t open, it’s the same story for all the others. None of the other entrances have ever opened, anyway.”

            “Oh? Is that so?”

          “Yes. Everyone came in through the front door, remember? The others have been locked from the beginning.”

            “So Y has had the place on lockdown even before I arrived? Interesting.”

            Dorian suddenly wasn’t sure if he should have told Hyde this information. What was he thinking?

            Hyde grinned at the look of confusion on Dorian’s face.

            “Failed attempts at escape aside, I’m glad we got to have this time together,” he said.

            Dorian’s expression became guarded. He would attempt not to reveal anything more, but Hyde seemed determined. Dorian felt like they were kindred spirits. Both were men who were used to getting what they wanted. The trouble was, Dorian had no idea what Hyde was looking for.

            “Is there something you wished to say to me?” he asked, his voice now smooth and devoid of emotional inflection.

            “Oh there’s a great deal I would like to say to you,” Hyde said, keeping his tone light but purposely adding a little venom to his expression. “But for now, let’s talk about Vlad. Nice little trick you pulled on him. Be lucky if he doesn’t decide to kill you later.”

            “He can’t kill me. I live so long as my portrait is safe.”

            “And what if it wasn’t safe?”

            He was testing Dorian. Dorian knew this, and still he rose to the challenge, “You’re trying to scare me and it won’t work.”

            “No? And why is that?”

            “Because I’m not afraid of you.”

            “I can’t scare you because you’re not afraid of me? Well, done Mr. Gray! That’s some very neat circular logic you have there. And I must commend your bravery. Most people find me at least a little… unpleasant.”

            “I’m very much aware of what most people think of you, Mr. Hyde. In fact, I may be the only person here who has bothered to read your book.”

            Hyde’s expression clouded. The corners of his mouth twitched downward slightly. His tone was sour when he said, “If you read my book, then you should know that my name isn’t Mr. Hyde.”

            Dorian gave a dry laugh lacking humor. He managed to touch a nerve, and that pleased him, “Oh yes. I forgot. Such a person never existed, isn’t that right? It’s Henry Jekyll I’m speaking to now, stripped down to his worst qualities.”

            Hyde gave a dramatic bow and grinned, “You can call me Henry.”

            “Well then _Henry_ , allow me to answer your question. I am not afraid of you because frankly, I am a lot more terrifying that you could ever hope to be.”

            “That so?”

            “Yes, it is. You see kind, gracious Dr. Jekyll longed to be bad, but he was plagued by his pesky conscious. He could never do any of the things he really wanted because he would feel so terrible about himself after, and really, what would his friends say? So he played the role of gentleman in order to remain a pillar of society. Am I right so far?”

            Hyde’s mouth was set in a firm, thin line. He did not nod, but he didn’t deny Gray either. Dorian took that as confirmation.

            “Dr. Jekyll had to find a way to suppress his nobler intentions in order to do bad things, and so he created Hyde. Finally, he could enjoy all the bad behaviors he had found so tantalizing, and without remorse. But poor man, once he changed back into his old self, the memory of what he had done as Hyde plagued him, and self-loathing set in.”

            “I know the story,” Hyde said tersely, “Does this little rant of yours have a point?”

            “My point, _Henry_ , is that I never needed a potion to do bad things. I stand before you whole, missing none of the faculties I possessed at birth. Whatever conscience I have is still in place. I have done crimes which you can’t even begin to imagine, and all in the pursuit of my own comfort and happiness. And not once, _not once_ did I ever regret my actions.”

            Dorian paused for dramatic effect, which Hyde found rather cute. He allowed Dorian to have his moment, and then said with mock surprise, “Oh I see! You mean to say that you’re the bigger monster, and so anything I say or do does not affect you?”

            Now it was Dorian’s turn to smirk at him, self-satisfaction written on his face. This expression was not as fleeting as the others had been. He seemed to be saturated with it.

            Hyde hummed thoughtfully, enjoying this game of toying with Dorian. “And what if I were to say that you were never going to get your picture back?

            Dorian’s face turned pale. The expression of smug self-satisfaction was gone in an instant, but Dorian recovered from his shock just as quickly. Anger replaced it.

            “You can’t possibly know that.”

            “You think I’m lying? But what if I know where it’s hidden? I think I would know whether or not you’d be getting it back.”

            “… What do you mean… You know where it’s hidden?”

            “I said ‘if.’ You really should learn to take a joke, Dorian. I mean, you should see your face. But then, I guess you can’t, not having your picture to look at and all. But I suppose you don’t much like looking at it these days, what with how ghastly you must have made yourself look after all these years and all that _bad behavior._ ”

            It was enough to make Dorian snap. He threw himself at Hyde, arms outstretched as if to wrap his hands around Hyde’s throat. Hyde made no attempt to dodge, he allowed Dorian’s weight to crash into him, shoving his back against the wall. In the next instant, Dorian recoiled from him with a hiss of pain. His hand moved reflexively to cover the blooming bloodstain that appeared on his side. His eyes traveled down to Hyde’s hand, still holding a bloodied scalpel.

            Hyde smirked at him. “Make no mistake, Dorian. I don’t need to be the scariest monster here to hurt you. Vlad’s all talk, but I’m not. Get in my way again, and I will tear you apart.”

            Dorian’s muscles relaxed and his hand fell away from his side. He had already recovered from the shallow wound. It didn’t matter; Hyde had got his point across. Now it felt like he had taunted Dorian enough for one evening. Originally planned to pry some more information out of him, but it was obvious that Dorian didn’t know anything that Hyde didn’t already know himself. He just liked to pretend that he knew more in front of the others - probably a defense mechanism he had developed over the years to keep people interested in him. Poor bloke.

            Since he had decided to be done, he wasted no time in turning away from Dorian with every intention to head to the kitchen to locate whatever was left of their rations. Dorian’s strangled-sounding voice made him pause.

            “I’ll tell the others about you.”

            Hyde peeked at him over his shoulder, “You’ll tell them what?”

            “I’ll tell them that I never wrote to you. Y never asked me to send Dr. Jekyll here. I don’t know what you’re doing, but I know you weren’t invited.”

            “I was invited Mr. Gray. Just not by you.” Hyde said teasingly. Then he left Dorian without another word. He wasn’t worried about leaving Dorian without a guard. Strictly speaking, he didn’t worry about anything. Let Dorian tell the others what he suspected about him. He didn’t care. It wouldn’t spoil his plans. Or at least, he didn’t think it would.

            He found the kitchen already occupied when he arrived. A naked man was searching through the cabinets, stocking up on what food he could find.

            “Hi, Vinny,” Hyde said.

            Vinny cursed and dropped one of the rolls he had in his arms. “Jesus, Hyde! You scared the crap out of me!”

            “Do you think it’s a good idea to be walking around like that? What if one of the others had come in instead of me?”

            “Good point,” said Vinny. He vanished in the next instant. A floating pile of foodstuffs remained as testament to his presence. “Better?”

            “Well, at least I can’t see you.”

            “And how are the others?”

            “Not so good. They’re all bent out of shape about where you’ve been hiding, of course. And then Victor has Vlad’s blood now, compliments of Dorian.”

            “Busy-body,” Vinny muttered. “And Vlad’s cooperating?”

            “That’s the gist of it. Victor thinks he’s found a way to resurrect the mummy.”

            Vinny snorted. Hyde wasn’t sure what that was meant to signify. He had a hard time understanding what Vinny was feeling when he was invisible like this. When Vinny didn’t speak, Hyde continued.

            “Dorian’s onto us.”

            “Well, of course he is. He’s been suspicious of us from day one. Everyone has.”

            “Well, he plans to share some of his suspicions with the others.”

            Vinny groaned, “You haven’t been talking to him, have you?”

            “’Course not,” he lied. “He talks enough for two people. Arrogant prick.”

            “Well whatever. Let him tell the others what he pleases. What harm will it do? But I’d better stay hidden for now.”

            “So you’re going to leave me to face them alone? Nice. Real nice.”

            “You know what to do if things get too messy,” Vinny said. “Besides I have a job for you.”

            Hyde’s interest in the conversation, which had been waning, instantly perked up again. “So you’ve talked to him? Is he coming?”

            “E’s already here, mate.” Vinny’s accent, which he had always been careful to conceal around the others, was especially thick when he spoke with Hyde. “But now’s not the right time to reveal ‘imself. Anyway, it’s decided. Victor cannot resurrect that mummy.”

            “I know that.”

            “Well, it’s up to you to do something about it.”

            “Like what? Chop the body up into itty bits?”

            “No, he’s used to that sort of thing. Victor would just stitch him back together.”

            “No he wouldn’t,” Hyde said scornfully, “He’d get that wife of his to do it for him.”

            “Henry…” Vinny said gleefully, “You’re a genius!”

            “…What the hell are you talking about?”

            “Beth! She’s the real brains behind this operation! Victor hasn’t so much as touched the body. If Beth won’t assist him with the surgery then there’s no way he’ll do it himself!”

            “OK. But there’s one problem. Beth does everything Victor wants her to do. How are we supposed to stop her from assisting with the operation?”

            “Well, that’s your job, buddy. Do I have to think of everything? Just work your magic on her.”

            “That may require some _bad behavior_ ,” Hyde said, thinking back to his conversation with Dorian.

            “Hey, man. That’s why I brought you along on this little venture. Someone has to get their hands dirty.”

            “What if I don’t want to?”

            “Are you fucking with me? I thought you were Henry Jekyll, upstanding British citizen by day, dirty hedonistic pervert by night? You saying you don’t want a chance to seduce Victor’s wife?”

            “It’s not that I haven’t thought about it,” Hyde said dismissively, “It just… Say I don’t feel like it?”

            “C’mon Hyde. Don’t get cold feet on me now. This goes beyond you or me. Think about the mission…”

            “That’s the other thing. I don’t remember ever enlisting in any secret corps or spy ring. Why the hell should I even be helping you?”

            “Because I’m your only friend, and you like me?”

            There was a question in his voice when he said it. True, Vinny was his only friend, but it was questionable whether or not Hyde liked him at times.

            Hyde sighed and shook his head. There was no use arguing with Vinny. He’d get his way in the end, one way or another.

              “Fine, I’ll cooperate. But remember you owe me for this one! I’m no longer convinced that Beth is the little angel she appears to be. Don’t you think there’s something odd about her?”

            “Of course there is. She married Frankenstein.”

            “I’m not being funny. This is serious. There’s something off about her, but I can’t figure what. It’s like… she’s lacking something in her character, like she’s not really a complete person…”

            He didn’t finish the thought. He was about so say “she’s like me,” but he didn’t want to go that far. Vinny would probably only make fun of him, saying something about soulmates and how maybe Beth’s inherent goodness was meant to make up for all of Hyde’s cruelty. But that wasn’t what he meant. He didn’t have the words to accurately describe what it was about Beth that bothered him. So he let the silence hover in the air between him and Vinny. He tried to think about the mission instead. At least having a purpose to his actions for once in his life allowed him to put aside difficult questions.

            “Maybe Victor completes her?” Vinny suggested. He was never able to stand silence for very long. When Hyde glanced in the direction of his voice, he snapped back to visibility to give Hyde a better view of his face, contorted with passion. What followed was a very poor impersonation of Tom Cruise from _Jerry Maguire, “_ You… Complete… Me…”

            Hyde stared at him. “Was that supposed to be funny?”

            “I’m running on empty here, Henry. I’m fresh out of new material.”

            “We’ll you’d better run off and think of something better than that,” Hyde said with mock alarm, “That was dreadful.”

            “All right, all right. I’m going before someone sees us talking like this. Just make sure you stick to the plan. No one suspects our involvement just yet, or at least they’re not saying so to one another. Remember, I’ll be watching.”

            “Wow, creepy,” Hyde commented just as Vinny was leaving the room, “Just make sure you’re invisible when you do so. Bad enough having a naked man stalking everyone, worse if we have to see it.”

            Vinny wiggled his bare butt at Hyde in defiance before quickly vanishing again.

            “Vinny?” Hyde asked, wondering if the invisible man was still in the room, lingering to see what he would do next. There was no response, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t there, playing his usual tricks. Hyde shrugged. It was likely Vinny had actually gone to see what the others were up to during their long conversation. And like Vinny, Hyde had better things to do than worry about what his partner-in-crime was doing. Vinny had given him a job to do. It was time to go see Victor’s wife.


	21. Comings and Goings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hyde demonstrates how not to pick up women.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I skipped an update last week. And for that I'm sorry. Also, the editing may have been a little rushed, so if you see more mistakes than usual, I apologize for that as well. At any rate, enjoy the chapter. Or don't. I'm not telling you how to live your life. - jinxauthor

            Hyde loitered outside the bedroom that Victor and Beth shared. He tried carefully to not look like a person loitering, but there was really no avoiding it while occupied by nothing except standing in the middle of an empty passageway. He had no choice but to duck into an open doorway across the hall and wait.

           He found himself in the bedroom that had belonged to Dr. Jekyll before he had lost the noble part of himself. Hyde had made a point not to enter it again since the night he awoke in that bed. It looked just as he’d left it, although the only sign that anyone had once inhabited the room was the rumpled bedcovers. There were none of the usual signs of Jekyll’s presence. No books lined neatly on polished shelves. No tastefully arranged overstuffed armchairs. No neat tray of steaming tea. In short, he hadn’t brought along any of the comforts of home. How could he? Hyde had brought him here against his will.

            “Against _our_ will,” Hyde corrected his thoughts aloud, startling himself with the sudden noise. He hadn’t meant to talk to himself. He glanced quickly into the hall to make sure he hadn’t been overheard, and tried to refocus on his important vigil. But it was no good. He kept staring at the unmade bed, the only sign that someone had been here before. His thoughts kept drifting back to the man he was when he had a conscience.

            Jekyll would not be lurking around corners like this. No, he would never hide away in a dark room like some criminal. Jekyll had always been an upfront and forthright person, innocently pursuing the finer comforts in life, though he carefully avoided those passions which would lead him to _inconvenience_ others.

            Then again, not all of his pursuits had been innocent. He had given birth to Hyde after all. He smiled at the recollection of those early days. He could do whatever he wanted, when and however he wanted to do it. No guilt, no remorse, no fear of consequences. When had it all changed? For Hyde, everything was still as fresh has it had been that first night… But his other self - that part that was dominated by the pesky superego - he did have regrets.

            That was back when Jekyll still remembered him.

            He frowned. What was that he was feeling? He told himself it was anger. He was always angry at himself – no - angry at Jekyll for repressing all thoughts of him. Everything had changed when Jekyll started to deny this basic part of himself – the part which felt and yearned and _wanted_ things. He was a fool, and Hyde hated him because he hated being a part of him.

            No, Jekyll would never have accepted this job from Vinny. He never would have come to this castle if Hyde hadn’t forced his hand. The thought was enough to steel his resolve, and Hyde turned resolutely back to watch the door to Victor’s room.

            It opened. Beth glided out of the room. She must have been fixing her hair or trying to contrive a way of removing the wrinkles from her worn evening gown. Despite the stubble which had appeared on her husband’s chin, the dark shadows under William’s eyes, and the copious amount of grey which had spread through Dracula’s hair, Beth still looked flawless. The wrinkled, shortened dress only seemed to flatter her figure more.

            Hyde couldn’t resist a smile. Jekyll might not remember him, but he could remember everything, especially the sight of Beth through that first night. Her presence in the castle had been a mystery even then. She was a puzzle, and he was delighted to be the one to solve her.

            “Beth!” he called out, careful not to raise his voice too loud. “Wait a moment!”

            Beth halted just before the staircase leading to the first floor. She returned the smile Hyde offered her, but she was clearly confused.

            “Mr. Hyde, is there something I can help you with?”

            He didn’t bother to correct her about his name. Vinny was right, these people would never see him as anything other than Edward Hyde. And maybe that was fine. Maybe he didn’t want to be Dr. Jekyll.

            No, he steadfastly corrected himself. He was Jekyll. He was the original. His wants and feelings went deeper than Jekyll’s trumped-up sense of moral righteousness.

            This was what they both wanted. He and Jekyll, united by this common need. Feeling secure in his mission, Hyde gave Beth this most trustworthy smile. It was not easy for him to accomplish.

            “I just wanted to talk to you for a bit. It’s so rare to see you alone.”

            To his surprise, she seemed to be falling for it. Or at least she wasn’t running away from him in terror, as women usually did upon meeting him. Strange that. He didn’t think he was necessarily unattractive. Perhaps it had something to do with the cold leer that he considered his best smile.

            “I’m sorry we haven’t had more time to chat, but assisting Victor with his research is my priority at the moment,” Beth explained to him patiently. There wasn’t a shred of ill-will in her voice, and Hyde could detect even the smallest trace of insincerity. Beth wasn’t trying to be rude, but she spoke her words like rehearsed lines.

            “Let Victor manage his own research for a while. Didn’t he teach you everything you know? He’s always making you do the dirty work, let him take care of himself for a change.”

            “I like assisting Victor. It’s what I was made to do.”

            “Do you really believe that?” He dared to reach out and grip one of Beth’s hands. She didn’t pull away from his touch, but she did look down at their clasped hands curiously, unsure of what the gesture meant.

            Hyde shivered. She was cold to the touch.

            He ignored the feeling, tried to focus on his mission. He looked up into Beth’s blue eyes and tried to tell himself he had never been more pleased to accept one of Vinny’s jobs.

            “It seems to me that all you do is answer Victor’s beck and call. But he doesn’t appreciate you Beth. Takes you for granted, sure, but he never thinks of you until something in his life goes wrong. Then you come pick up the pieces.”

            “Yes,” Beth said plainly. Her tone seemed to mock him, as if she couldn’t understand why anything he had said would be an insult to her or Victor.

            “And you’re satisfied with that life, Beth? Even when I can offer you so much more?”

            “You?” Beth asked with incredulity. She tried to pull away from him now, but they stood too close to the staircase. Her foot slipped against the edge of the top step. Hyde used their still-clasped hands to pull her closer to him, saving her from the fall while managing to draw her against his chest.

            Beth seemed oblivious to the situation. She was still determinately yet fruitlessly trying to distance herself from Hyde. “What could you possibly have to offer me?” she asked, as if their conversation had never been interrupted, and she wasn’t currently pressed against him in a compromising situation.

            “Everything,” Hyde whispered against her soft, clean hair. She and Victor must have shower attached to their room. They’d been holding out on the others. He was sure William hadn’t bathed in days.

            Why exactly was he thinking about smelly werewolves at a time like this?

            “I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted,” he whispered, trying to sound seductive but coming off desperate, as he was wont to do in times of desperation. “I don’t care what I have to do to get it, so long as I can have you.”

            “The only thing I have ever wanted is Victor,” Beth said firmly. She pushed Hyde away from her with no small amount of force. He stepped back, but he still kept one of her hands gripped tightly in his.

            “How can you say that when he treats you like dirt?”

            “He loves me. And he needs me.”

            “Yes he needs you. He needs you because he isn’t man enough to operate on that damn mummy himself. But what then, Beth? What’s going to happen after this is all said and done, and he doesn’t need you for this job anymore?”

            “We were married a lot longer than either of us has been trapped in this castle, Mr. Hyde.”

            “Damnit, Beth! What has he done to deserve such loyalty from a woman like you?”

            “He made me this way.”

            Something inside Hyde snapped. He made her? Did he make her as Jekyll had made him? Was she nothing more than something to embrace in the beginning while life was still an adventure, only to discard with embarrassment and shame when things got rough?

  1. Maybe he was projecting his own frustrations onto her, but it seemed to him that Victor really didn’t pay Beth any attention unless he needed her for some practical purpose. Would she eventually see herself outlive that purpose for him?



            There was an unpleasant feeling twisting around in his stomach that reminded him of Jekyll. He blamed Beth for it, though he didn’t know why. He could feel his upper lip twisting into a sneer when he spoke to her. “He made you to be as weak and pathetic as he is. You suit one another. Entirely codependent.”

            Beth’s hand, resting so docilely in his own, suddenly gripped him with unexpected strength. He thought the delicate bones would break. With a cry of pain, he yanked his hand from her and glared at her in surprised outrage.

            “Do not insult Victor in front of me,” Beth warned.

            She started to turn away from him. As far as she was concerned, this conversation had reached an end. But Hyde couldn’t let her go like this. He couldn’t fail the mission.

            His next words arrested her movement, causing her to pause on the stair one step down from him. “You can’t help him fix that mummy, Mrs. Frankenstein.”

            She turned to him very slightly, peeping at him over her shoulder. “And why is that, Mr. Hyde?”

           “Because it’s not right. Don’t you see that? The man is dead. It’s not going to do any good to bring him back. Victor made that mistake once himself, already. If you really cared for him that much, couldn’t you see how this is torturing him? It has to stop!”

            Beth considered his words very seriously. It never seemed to occur to her to point out that Hyde had no right to question what was in Victor’s best interest when he himself had just been hitting on his wife.

            “Victor does not want to do this,” Beth said with confidence, “That’s why he needs my support. But he has told me that this is the path we must take for the greater good, and if it is what he has commanded, of course I will obey him.”

            Hyde couldn’t believe his ears. He didn’t know if her blind loyalty was admirable, or downright disgusting.

            “Is that your final answer?”

            “Yes. It is.”

            This was a lost battle. He hadn’t had a chance of convincing Beth to abandon Y’s plan from the very beginning. He knew that now, but hindsight is never helpful. A stray thought passed through his head. _What would Jekyll do?_

            Well, for starters, he never would have had the courage to talk to Beth like this. And even if he did, he would just go along with whatever she said, probably feeling touched by her fidelity and faith in her husband, while secretly longing for something like that himself. Pathetic.

            Beth had given him her answer, and now the conversation was finally over. She turned away from him again, prepared to leave him there at the top of the stairs. She would be too good to say anything to Victor about what Hyde had done, he was sure of that. But it didn’t matter. Vinny did say to do whatever it took to stop Beth from assisting Victor. He didn’t even think about what he did next.

            “Have it your way then,” he said, and in the next moment, he lifted both of his hands and pushed Beth down the stairs.

            She didn’t even scream. Perhaps she was too overcome with the shock of finding herself suddenly careening through the air, then slamming first onto one hard stair, then another and another, tumbling in gut-wrenching somersaults until she hit the bottom landing and lay there, perfectly still.

            Hyde stared down at her from the top staircase, his head cocked at an angle. He observed her broken body with a detached curiosity. She lay there with her neck frightfully bent to one side. One of her arms was twisted underneath her body at an unnatural angle. There was no blood, but she wasn’t moving. Hyde drew closer to her, descending the stairs step by careful step. When he reached the bottom, he knelt on the floor beside her. Strangely, he didn’t see any cuts or bruises which should have resulted from the fall. He expected so see some other signs of injury after a tumble like that. But Beth was dead. Of that he was certain.

            He hadn’t heard anyone approach. He wasn’t aware of the boy’s presence until he heard William say his name.

            He turned to look at him, on the verge of correcting the boy on the proper way in which he should be addressed, though this was hardly the time. He never got a word in, for in the next second William gasped and began shouting, “Oh my god! Victor! Victor, come quick!”

            Victor arrived almost instantly, drawn by the sounds of his horrified cries. There was a look of petrified terror on his face which suggested that he already suspected the worst. Vlad trailed after him at a slower pace, looking as if he too sensed trouble, but had resigned himself to it. He dragged Dorian along with him, who looked even less interested than Vlad. Perhaps he was attributing this outcry to fresh interference from Y.

            As soon as Victor was near enough to see Beth on the ground, he gave a sort of strangled cry and ran to her side, shoving Hyde away from her prone body with a force that left Hyde sprawled on the floor. “No,” he whispered fearfully, “No… no…”

            He reached out for her, hands placed lovingly on either side of Beth’s face. He tried to turn her toward him. As he did, the damage Hyde had expected to see was revealed in the torn flesh of Beth’s neck. The gash was there, dark and deep. Victor recoiled from her in the next instant as bright sparks crackled from the wound. Hyde, William, Vlad, and even Dorian all stared in mute wonder at this strange spectacle, but Victor didn’t seem to find it the least bit unusual. His gaze landed on Hyde with a look of pure hatred.

            “You did this.”

“No, I didn’t.”

            “You killed her!”

            “She fell!”

            It was true. She did fall. But Hyde certainly wasn’t going to admit to pushing her. Victor wasn’t convinced. Something about Hyde always made the people around him blame him for everything that went wrong. They were usually right, but it still annoyed him to be always the one having a finger pointed at him.

            “You murdered her!” Victor screamed, diving toward Hyde with his own murderous intent, but William grabbed onto him and held him back. He had to sink to his knees to be on level with the now truly mad doctor, who was still kneeling over the body of his slain wife.

            Victor struggled against him, but William would win a match in strength against Victor any day, and right now he was overcome with grief. After a few futile attempts to break free, Victor hung his head and was consumed by great, wracking sobs.

            William stared in mute terror at the body of Beth. The wound on her neck was now totally exposed. The flesh had been torn and was curling slightly around the edges, but there was no blood. Instead, where tendons and muscle should have been, there was only electric wiring and metal rods. Some of these cords had been frayed or severed by the impact of her fall, and it was from these wires that the occasional spark emitted.

            In many ways, seeing her insides exposed like that was more grotesque than if she had been flesh and blood.

            “She’s… a robot,” William said faintly.

            “Called it.” Vlad said, unimpressed.

            “Shut up, you did not,” Dorian muttered under his breath.

            William continued as if he hadn’t heard them, “I don’t understand. How can Beth be a robot?”

            Victor, the only man who could answer that question, was still sobbing uncontrollably. William still gripped his arms tight behind his back, but it was clear Victor would make no further attempt to attack Hyde.

            Still, Hyde felt it would be better to give the doctor a moment of privacy. He tried scooting himself away, inch by inch, toward the nearby entrance to the study. Vlad was on him in an instant.

            “Just where do you think you’re going?”

“Erm,” said Hyde.

            Vlad reached down and pulled Hyde up by the collar of his shirt. He could hear tiny tears forming in the fabric from the strain as Vlad held him to his own eye level, allowing Hyde’s feet to dangle off of the ground. Sometimes he hated being short.

            “You’re going to confess what really happened.”

            “I already told you!” Hyde squeaked. Vlad’s fist was pressed against his windpipe, “She fell down the stairs! I didn’t do anything wrong!”

            “Liar!” Vlad said, throwing him to the floor in disgust. He slid across the hard floor, his body almost touching that of Beth. He squirmed away from it, though more out of fear of getting shocked than from a guilty conscience.

            “What does it matter?” Hyde demanded. “She was never really alive anyway!”

            “Did you know?” asked Dorian, “I mean did you know that she was a robot before you pushed her?”

            “Well, no… But I hardly see how that’s…”

            “You admit it!” Victor moaned, his tears ceasing and his hatred seething from him freely again, “You admit that you pushed her!”

            “Get a grip over yourself, Frankenstein,” Vlad said, his distaste of expressions of human emotion evident.

            Victor burst into tears again as if to spite him.

            William climbed to his feet on unsteady legs, leaving Victor collapsed on the floor. He stared down at Beth’s body in stunned disbelief, even as Victor, still sobbing, reached toward Beth again. Fear of being shocked by the live wires kept him from touching her, but he dragged himself toward her body. Watching him, William looked as if he too might start crying at any moment.

            “Why?” he asked. “Why did you do it?”

            Hyde didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure what to tell him. He looked up at Vlad again, hoping for a little bit of sympathy.

            He chose the wrong target.

            “Tell us why you killed her,” the vampire demanded. He wasn’t overcome by emotion like the others. He suspected sabotage.

            Hyde ran a tongue over his dry lips and still said nothing. Vlad bore down on him again. He stood directly in front of Hyde, starting down at him from his prodigious height. “Why did you kill her, Hyde?”

            He knew that now was not the right time to argue about his name, but what could he say? He couldn’t tell them that Vinny told him to do it… Could he?

            “Vinny…” he started to say, but Vlad cut him off.

            “Vinny has been missing these past few nights. Are you trying to say that he pushed Beth down the stairs?”

            It hadn’t occurred to him that he could frame Vinny for his crime. He answered “no” on reflex, and instantly regretted it.

            “Then what are you trying to say?”

            “I don’t know. I didn’t mean to.”

            “You didn’t mean to push this woman down the stairs?”

            Hyde looked at the prone body again, still shooting sparks from the wires in its neck. “She’s not a woman.”

            “Is that why you pushed her? You knew she wasn’t human?”

            “I… it was an accident.”

            “Fuck you!” Victor moaned between sobs. “You’re a murderer. You killed her!”

            “No, I didn’t! I didn’t!”

            Vlad reached down and lifted him by the collar of his shirt again. He struggled against him but his grip was like a vice. He could not break it.

            “You did,” Vlad hissed in his face, “And you’ve ruined our chances of resurrecting the mummy. And you will pay for it.”

            He panicked. Vlad was choking him and his vision was growing blurry. He was going to be killed, and the others were going to let Vlad do it. To them, Beth had always been more human than Hyde ever was. It wasn’t fair. He’d done nothing wrong… Or he hadn’t meant to… Or he didn’t know what he’d meant to do.

            He couldn’t breathe. He was confused. He was… scared, yes. He was scared.

            “Help me…” he said, exhaling the last of his breath.

            Vlad nearly dropped him to the floor. His body started to convulse in the vampire’s hands. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and a thin stream of white froth trailed out the side of his gaping mouth. When his flesh literally began to crawl beneath his fingers, Vlad did drop him.

            Hyde lay there, twitching spasmodically, head thrashing from side to side.

            “Is he having a seizure?” Dorian asked conversationally, taking only very slight interest in the goings on of his forced roommates.

            “NO!” Victor screamed, realizing what was happening before the others, he tried to scramble toward Hyde but slipped and fell hard back onto his knees, “No, you bastard! You’re not getting away with this!”

           But it was too late. Hyde had gone. In his place, sweating and gasping for air, was Dr. Jekyll, returned at last.


	22. Reminiscing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jekyll sucks at apologies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to take a moment to apologize for the abysmally late update. For whatever reason, I found this chapter particularly difficult to write, and my motivation just failed. I'm afraid it might show in the quality of this chapter. Fortunately it's short, and I hope to bring things back on track in chapter 23. Thanks for your continued support. - jinxauthor

            Beth’s body lay under a sheet. Now there were two corpses on display in the laboratory, each terrible in its own unique way. Victor stood over the empty shell he had once called his wife while that of the mummy rested motionless on the table at his back. He couldn’t remember who had moved her there or who had found a clean, white sheet to place respectfully over her. He couldn’t remember how he had made his way to her side. He wasn’t even sure how much time had passed since he had seen her on the floor by the stairs. Minutes? Hours? Days?

            The sound of shuffling feet and a cough alerted him to William’s presence, though he showed no sign of having heard him. He continued to stare at Beth, the lines of her profile obscured by the thin fabric of the sheet.

            “Um, Victor? Are you OK?”

            Victor didn’t know how to respond, but he was spared in the next instant was William continued, “Sorry, stupid question. Don’t answer that.”

            He joined Victor at the side of the table. They stood in silence for a few moments, then William spoke again.

            “Can’t you… I mean… Can she be fixed?”

            Victor heaved a sigh, the first sound he’d made in an eternity. He wondered if speaking would relieve the tight knot in his chest and figured it was worth a try, even if his voice did sound hoarse.

            “Yes. I built her. I can repair her. But it will take time… and the right tools. Two things I don’t have.”

            A loud scoff was Victor’s first clue that William had not come alone. Dorian strolled around the side of the table to stand across from them. Victor felt the muscles in his back stiffen as Dorian lifted the corner of the sheet, peaking at the form underneath. Dorian raised his eyebrows and shook his head in disbelief before dropping the fabric back into place.

            “I’ve got to hand it to you. That’s some impressive work. You even had me fooled. I mean, I knew about your wife when I recruited you. Figured you were lucky to have found such a beautiful woman. I had no idea you’d actually built yourself a _Stepford Wife.”_

“Lay off, Dorian,” William warned.

            “I was trying to pay him a compliment,” Dorian said with a sneer, his eyes rolling upward. “She really is an impressive piece of work, Frankenstein. I didn’t think robotics was really your area of expertise.”

            “It wasn’t,” Victor said softly. He didn’t elaborate, but he knew what Dorian and William must be thinking. They were wondering how he’d gone from digging up corpses and stitching together body parts to manipulating lines of code. The answer was simple, but he didn’t feel like explaining it to his two companions.

            “I’d ask why you went to the trouble, but I think that goes without saying. Thought a computer wife would be safer than the usual alternative? She’s more likely to listen to your orders, sure. And I’m sure she never argued with you. Yes, it would have been very convenient for…”

            Victor didn’t need to ask why Dorian had broken off mid-speech.  When Jekyll spoke, he didn’t even turn his head to look at him.

            “Victor…”

            The muscles in Victor’s jaw clenched involuntarily. He had to hiss his command through his teeth as he said, “ _Get out._ ”

            Jekyll hesitated, but he was not to be dismissed so easily. “Victor, please. I must speak to you.”

            William’s head swiveled between Jekyll and Victor, concern visible in every aspect of his being. Victor was in agony, but there was still room to feel sorry for the boy. He was certain that he would start shouting if he tried to speak to Jekyll again, but he could manage a small gesture, bidding Jekyll wordlessly to continue.

            Emboldened by Victor’s permission, Jekyll advanced closer to the table, though he took care to maintain a respectful distance. He spoke to Victor’s back, remorse in his voice.

            “Victor, I’m so sorry about what’s happened. Beth was… Well, I know what having her here must have meant for you. What Hyde has done is unforgivable…”

            Victor’s anger felt like a boiling pot of water, and with each word Jekyll said, he felt like he was going to spill over the edge. Jekyll spoke as if he had nothing to do with what had happened. He was quick to place all of the blame on Hyde, but said nothing of his own responsibility.

            When Victor continued in his silence, Jekyll spoke again, his tone pleading, “If I could take back what Hyde has done, I would.”

            Just when Victor felt like he would scream, William interjected, his question aimed at Jekyll, “Do you remember what happened?”

            “No…” said Jekyll after a pause, “It’s the same as always. Maybe if I could remember then I would know why he…”

            He faltered, but he didn’t remain silent long.

            “I’ve spent my whole life apologizing for what Hyde has done, but I don’t know what to say now. Victor, please say something.”

            Jekyll paused, and the silence fell between them. Victor wanted to feel numb again. Wanted it desperately. Feeling nothing at all had to be preferable to wanting to hit Jekyll in the face so hard he could taste it. It tasted like bile.

            “What do you want me to say? That I forgive you for creating the monster that destroyed my wife? That I should accept that you have no control over your own creation?”

            “I thought you of all people would be capable of understanding something like that.”

            Victor spun around so fast he surprised all of them, including himself. He only realized he’d taken a swing at Jekyll when he stumbled backward, avoiding Victor’s fist.

            “I don’t give a fuck if you can’t remember a damn thing…” Victor forced the words between his teeth one by one. He was still fighting to keep himself from screaming at Jekyll. “You created him! He follows your impulses! You are just as responsible for his crimes as if you did them yourself!”

            “I never wanted this!” protested Jekyll desperately, “I never wanted to see Beth killed!”

            Victor ripped the sheet from Beth’s body, exposing her still form, her glassy eyes, and the torn material of her neck. William and Dorian jumped back from the table, both clearly out of their depth for how to calm Victor down.

            “Beth is wire and metal and a bit of clever programming!” Victor said, losing the battle of trying to keep his voice down. “You can no more kill her than you can kill a refrigerator!”

            Jekyll averted his eyes from Victor’s creation, as if unable to bear the sight of what Hyde had done. “I don’t understand…” he said, “I thought you said he was a murderer…”

            “My god, do you still not see?” Victor said. He ran a shaking hand through his hair and felt his chest rattle as he took a deep breath. “I needed Beth. Not as a wife, nor even as a research assistant. She was the key to my immortality.”

            “No…” said Dorian suddenly, “No that’s not true. You know the secret to eternal life.”

            Victor glanced at him, then back and Jekyll, and finally turned to stare into William’s wide eyes. There was no avoiding the topic any longer. He would have to tell them everything if they were going to understand. After all, it affected their fortunes as well as his.

            He sighed, and began to tell his story.

            “I only possess the knowledge of how to reanimate _dead_ _tissue_. To create new life from old materials. I have no idea how indefinitely preserve the life of a living person. And after what had happened with my first creation, I knew I could never face the natural sciences again…

            “But still I feared death. When my own body began to fail, I thought of a way to save myself. If I could transplant new organs into my own body, using the same methods I had used to create the monster, then perhaps I could buy myself more time. The new organs would not only last longer than my natural faculties, but I would gain in strength as well, just as the monster had.

            “I knew I couldn’t operate on myself. I needed an assistant to whom I could teach my methods. For a time, I was assisted by my friend, Robert Walton. He knew my story and had seen the creature with his own eyes. It was easy enough to convince him, a curious and ambition man in his own right, to take on the experiment. For years we worked on improving the technique, gradually exchanging the failing organs of my body with those Robert stole from obliging corpses. I trained him in all of my methods, swearing him to secrecy all the while. In time, we learned that my plans could work.

            “But by this time Robert was an aging man. Now that we had perfect my original design, he wanted me to return the favor...”

            “And you couldn’t do it,” William said softly when Victor’s narrative trailed off. Victor had wandered into recollections of the past. He flinched when William’s prompt recalled him to the present. “After what happened with the monster, you couldn’t operate again, could you?”

            “I tried…” Victor said, staring straight at William. He forgot all about Jekyll and Dorian as he continued with his tale, repeating it as if he was talking to William alone.

            “I tried to do it, if only as payment for helping me. But I couldn’t operate. I couldn’t make even one incision. My hands were shaking. I might have killed him if I tried.”

            William nodded his head, “What happened?”

            “He left me. He was angry that I wouldn’t give him eternal life. He sold my story to Mary Shelley, who turned it into the tale you know today. I’d told everything to Robert, you see. But even still, he didn’t reveal the full details of how it’s done. When he eventually died, it was just me…”

            “Then why did you need Beth?” Dorian asked, a rare note of compassion in his voice. Or perhaps it was just caution. He didn’t want to set Victor off again.

            “My methods weren’t perfect. I had to modify them to be appropriate for a living body. Over time, the body Robert had created for me began to deteriorate. I would die if I couldn’t undergo the process again.

            “But I had never stopped my researching. I couldn’t study the natural world without a feeling of panic, so I turned my attention to technology. The industrial age had already introduced so many wondrous new inventions, and I had committed myself as deeply to the study of machines as I once had to biology. In comparison to unlocking the secret to creating life, building Beth was simple. I programmed her with all of my knowledge, made her my assistant. It became her job to rebuild me time and time again… And now she’s gone. And if I can’t rebuild her, I will eventually die too… And without her, there’s no one to bring back the mummy.”

            “Now wait a damn second,” Dorian snapped suddenly, “Don’t think you can wiggle out of this so easily. You’re still going to perform the damn surgery.”

            Victor gaped at him. How could he be this obtuse after everything Victor had just related to him?

“Weren’t you listening to me? I haven’t so much as _held_ a scalpel in years. The last time I tried to operate myself, I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking.”

           Dorian wasn’t hearing him. “Resurrecting the mummy is our only chance of getting out of here!” he persisted, “How many times do I have to tell you people?”

            Victor was just as adamant. “How many times do I have to say that I cannot do this alone?”

“I’ll help you!” Jekyll shouted suddenly, breaking in between them before their argument could become more heated. He took a few steps closer toward Victor, but Victor backed away. Jekyll didn’t appear discouraged.

            “Victor, you said it yourself. You taught Walton. You programmed Beth. You can coach me through the surgery.”

            To Victor, Jekyll sounded like a madman. “No…” he muttered quietly. He wasn’t sure if anyone could even hear him. Jekyll was still speaking.

            “It’s the only way we can proceed without Beth, isn’t it? If we do it this way then we can get out of here, and you’ll have a chance to return home and fix her.”

            Victor managed to find his voice again. In a tone that was surprisingly steady given how distraught he had been seconds before, he replied, “I said no, Dr. Jekyll.”

            Dorian, Jekyll, and William all began to protest at once, mostly wanting to know _why?_ Victor, his tone resolute and gaining in strength with each passing second, easily talked over their voices.

            “Hyde is a part of you, Jekyll. And he can remember things that you can’t. What happens the next time you transform? No… I’m sorry, but it won’t work. I can’t trust you.”

            “This can’t be happening.” Dorian said, sounding slightly hysterical. He jabbed a finger at Victor, “You might be prepared to face your own mortality now, but I am not! You can’t do this to the rest of us!”

            “With all due respect, Mr. Grey, I haven’t done anything to us. Perhaps you’d better get in touch with your employer.”

            “This is ridiculous… I can’t believe… after everything I’ve done!” Dorian turned his back to them and began to march very quickly out of the room, “I’m telling Vlad about this! I’m sure he’ll have something to say about your sudden moral high ground, _doctor._ ”

            “Morality has nothing to do with it!” Victor called after him, “I’m trying to tell you that if I attempt the surgery in my condition, it will fail! Where will your master’s plan be then? I could risk irreparably damaging the body!”

             Dorian hesitated by the door. For a moment, Victor actually thought he would turn back. Then Dorian turned to peer at them over his shoulder, and the sneer on his face reflecting feelings of utmost loathing.

            “You know, I thought the Stepford Wife thing was funny, coming from you. But don’t you think it’s much funnier now? I mean, all this time I thought you were the doctor. I see now that you’ve actually been the monster this whole time.”

            He left them, clearly not expecting a reply to his taunt. He wanted to wound Victor, not realizing that Victor was past being hurt by anything now.

            William still tried to console him. “You’re not a monster, Victor. Don’t let him get to you.”

            Victor smiled sadly at him, but he didn’t offer a reply. After all, he knew Dorian was right.


	23. Inventory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which William counts rations, and discovers they have more problems than food.

            William was discovering that Jekyll could talk a lot when he was anxious.

            “… I mean, I understand that he’s distraught, but he’s going to have to face reality eventually…”

            Fortunately, William was learning very quickly to ignore most of what Jekyll as saying.

            “It’s selfish is what it is. If he can’t trust me to do it then he needs to take care of the job himself…”

            He’d been complaining loudly to William for the past hour, following him from room to room as William attempted to keep him away from Victor, the subject of his tirade.

            “I might as well try to take a stab at the process myself, for all the help he’s proving to be…”

            While the doctor continued to rave, William focused his attention on a new task he’d devised to keep himself busy.

            He crouched on the stone floor of the kitchen, looking through the cabinets and taking careful inventory of what food remained. It didn’t take long. Beth had done what she could to save the leftovers from previous meals, but William had to throw out quite a bit that had already spoiled. What remained wasn’t much for four people. William was now searching the unused cabinets for any signs of food they might have missed. He kept thinking back to the bottle of wine they’d found the first night, hoping that there would be something more left in the kitchen that could buy them time.

            He was just pulling out an ancient loaf of bread which, rather than turning to mold, seemed to have become petrified, when he heard Jekyll ask, “William, have you heard anything I just said?”

            He couldn’t help but smirk. Jekyll’s tone sounded so much like his mother’s.

            “You said that Victor was being selfish putting his fears above the rest of our safety, and that he should walk someone else through the operation if he really can’t trust you, which is preposterous anyway, because you’re not the same as Hyde,” William recited Jekyll’s words faithfully to him. The accuracy only seemed to irritate Jekyll more.

            “What are you doing anyway?” he asked snappishly.

            “Taking inventory.”

            “Of what? The crumbs? Will, counting it again isn’t going to make our food get any more plentiful.”

            William ignored his sarcasm and continued to tally up everything he’d gathered. “We should keep track of how much there is between the four of us. If anything goes missing…”

            “What? It will mean one of us is sneaking more food?”

            “No… It will mean that Vinny is still here.”

            “Vinny?” Jekyll said with incredulity. William didn’t need to look at him to sense his scorn. “Will, no one has seen Vinny for days.”

            “Exactly. Even if he’s hiding from us, where could he go? And he needs to eat, same as us. So if he’s been sneaking food from our stash, we’ll know by what’s missing.”

            Jekyll shook his head, “And what if nothing’s missing?”

            “Then we’ll know he’s gone… somehow,” Will muttered.

            “William, it’s been _days_ …” Jekyll said, this time laying heavy emphasis on the last word, “He _is_ gone. And I doubt he’ll be coming back.”

            “Then we should be asking where he’s gone and how he got out.”

            “Isn’t it obvious? He was Y the whole time. He disappeared as soon as he knew we were going to enact his plan of resurrecting the mummy. Once Dorian had been captured, he had no reason to stick around. He probably thought Dorian was going to rat him out anyway, so he left.”

            “I don’t think that’s true.”

            “And why not? Why have so much faith in him when you seem to have so little in me?”

            “Because there’s food missing.”

            Jekyll stared at him vacantly for the space of a few seconds, enough time for the implication of what William had said to sink in.

            “Dorian must have taken it.”

            “When? He may be free to move around as he pleases, but he’s never away from any of us. And he’s been brooding with Vlad ever since Victor stopped research on the mummy. Unless you’re sneaking food from our rations, Dr. Jekyll, then Vinny’s responsible.”

            “So he’s still here, but in hiding?”

            William nodded. He rocked back slightly onto his heels, still crouched on the ground. He let his head fall back, his gaze drifting to the ceiling without really looking at it. “I wish I could track him,” he said.

            “Track him? You mean like…”

            “I mean sniff him out. You know. Like a bloodhound or something.”

            “Can you do that?”

            William sighed and slowly pushed himself to his feet. Kneeling on the hard stone floor had made him feel a little sore, or perhaps that was the effect of sleeping on his hard, lumpy bed for what felt like weeks.

            “I don’t know,” he admitted after a pause. He ran his hand over the back of his neck, massaging the muscles there. “I’ve never tried it. But it doesn’t matter anyway. I don’t have anything with his scent to give it a try. I’ve looked around, but he must have stashed the clothes Vlad gave him when he went into hiding. There’s nothing else that smells like him.”

            “I’ve lost track of how long we’ve been stuck here, and none of us except maybe Victor has had a shower. I’m fairly certain you could sniff him out. Hell, I could probably do it.”

            William chuckled, “I’d have to smell him over my own stench… Maybe I could if I was the wolf, but then we’d have bigger problems than locating Vinny and finding out what he’s been up to.”

            “… Do you know when it’s going to happen again?” Jekyll asked. William knew the look on his face came not from fear for his own safety, but out of concern for William’s wellbeing. That was just the sort of person Jekyll was, and one of the many things that made him distinct from Hyde.

            “Soon,” William said. He didn’t need to track moon phases to know his next transformation would be upon him quickly. Each night the need to change felt stronger, crawling over his skin and leaving gooseflesh in its wake. He rubbed his hands over his arms just thinking about it, trying to brush the sensation away.

            “It would be better if you were free from here before then.”

            “Better for all of you, you mean.”

            Jekyll stared at William, causing the werewolf to flush with shame. He had meant the comment to sound like a joke, but too much bitterness had come through. He hadn’t meant to reveal his frustration.

            Avoiding Jekyll’s stare, William began replacing the small food supply to their original cabinet.

            “If only I could find Vinny… I need to ask him what he knows…”

            “You need to forget about him. We should be focusing on how we’re going to complete Y’s task and get out of here.”

            William rolled his eyes. “A minute ago you thought that Y _was_ Vinny!”

            “Yes, well if he’s still here then that’s probably not the case, is it?”

            “Well, maybe it is, and he’s stayed here to make sure we finish the job. I won’t know for sure until I’ve had a chance to ask him why he’s been hiding from us.”

            “He’s an invisible man, that’s what they do.”

            “We should post a guard. Make sure no more of this goes missing,” William said, ignoring Jekyll’s last comment.

            “We’re already taking shifts keeping an eye on Dorian, you want someone in the kitchen all the time too? Who’s going to assist Victor in the lab?”

            “No one, if he refuses to perform the operation.”

            “So you really haven’t been listening to me, have you?”

            William finished stowing away the last slightly soft pear and glanced at Jekyll over his shoulder. “What?”

            “Victor claims he can’t perform the operation himself, and he refuses to work with me. He never said he couldn’t walk someone else through it.”

            William gaped at him. “You can’t mean me!”

            “Who else? Dorian? I’d sooner trust Vlad to manage a blood bank than I would that man with a scalpel.”

            “Vlad can do it then. Victor needs his blood, anyway.”

            “You expect Vlad to donate his blood _and_ take care of the operation?”

            “Why not? He and Dorian have done the most complaining. If they’re so anxious to leave, they should do more for the cause.”

            “We’re all anxious to leave! And I made my offer. If Victor is too blind to see that Hyde and I are completely different people…”

            “That’s not the point!” William shouted. He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but it was so frustrating to see how obtuse Jekyll could be when it came to his other half. He sighed, trying to calm himself before speaking again.

            “Look. I didn’t like Hyde, either. None of us did. But there were things that he said… And the fact that he could remember everything that had happened to you… Things you thought…”

            “But it’s not the same for me! I already told you, I don’t remember anything!”

            “I know, I know.” William said consolingly, now trying to keep Jekyll calm. “I believe you when you say that you never wanted to hurt Beth. That wasn’t you. But you know, I don’t think it’s what Hyde really wanted either.”

            “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

            “I don’t know… Maybe… Maybe he was just acting on a whim or something. Maybe he didn’t think about it at all. That’s what makes you so different, I think. But still, even when Hyde was at his worst, there were moments… moments when I thought he kind of resembled you a little.”

            William saw the insulted look on Jekyll’s face and quickly backtracked, “Just a little bit, though. And only for like, a second or two. He’s horrible, I know. And I’m not saying you’re like him. But Jekyll, he thinks you’re both the same person, deep down. And he could remember stuff. Don’t you think that’s strange? That he can remember stuff and you can’t? I mean, shouldn’t it really be the other way around?”

            Now he was the one talking when he was feeling nervous, but Jekyll wasn’t yelling at him. The look of offense on his face had faded into a cool mask, his expression guarded, unreadable. The detached way he addressed William next told of how deeply affronted he actually felt.

            “So what are you suggesting?”

            William knew Jekyll wasn’t pleased with him, but he plowed on anyway. Something needed to be said.

            “I think you and Hyde have more in common than you like to admit. He vanished just as soon as he’d destroyed Beth, and none of us know why he did it. Maybe if you were more willing to accept your connection with him, you could remember something, too.”

            “Accept our connection? You’re saying I should accept Hyde is a part of myself? That I actually want to do the horrible things he’s capable of?”

            “You made him. You should accept some of the responsibility.”

            He had said it. The words were out and there was no way to take them back now. Jekyll said nothing. Perhaps he had decided there was no more to say. William felt terrible, but he knew he was right. Jekyll continued to stare him down, as if expecting William to take back his harsh words and beg for forgiveness. For a moment William considered it. Insulting Jekyll could mean losing the only remaining ally he had in this place. After all, Victor was useless without Beth, Vlad had attacked him, Vinny was missing, and Dorian hated everyone. But William was desperate to find answers, the same as the rest of them. Hyde might hold the key. He set his jaw and continued to stare back at Jekyll, challenging him with his gaze.

            Jekyll still did not speak, so William continued, “You say that Victor has a responsibility to the rest of us. We’re all expected to do our part. Maybe the best way you can help us isn’t to put more pressure on Victor. Maybe you need to find some way to figure out what Hyde knows.”

            “And you?” Jekyll said, his tone still as cold as ice. “What will you do?”

            William shrugged, “I’m going to find Vinny. If we’re lucky, we’ll figure out what’s going on before Vlad snaps. You know he took the news of Victor’s strike too calmly. I think he’s waiting for an opportunity to do something really nasty to him.”

            “You’re probably right. And if we lose our mad scientist we’re all in mortal peril. He won’t stop with just one.”

            “Don’t call him that.”

            “Oh yes, I forgot. We’re all mad here.” Jekyll sighed and rubbed the back of his head. He finally broke off staring down William, allowing the boy to breathe a sigh of relief. Some of the tension had gone away, and Jekyll didn’t seem as angry with him as he had a second before.

            “Now that I think about it, I had probably better go stop in on Vlad and Dorian. It’s about time for me to take over his watch. It can’t be healthy for those two to spend so much time together.”

            Jekyll started to move toward the door, stopping just short of the passage into the hall, “Before I go, William…”

            “Yes?” Will asked. He was preparing to leave the kitchen himself, but he could sense that Jekyll wanted to exit alone. He could afford to wait a few minutes.

            “You said you noticed similarities… Between Edward and I… What were they?”

            William hesitated. It was hard to remember what he had seen of Jekyll in Hyde, especially now that Jekyll stood before him. They had been fleeting moments. A look here, a word or gesture there… Finally he just said, “Well, neither of you were real fans of staying here much longer.”

            Jekyll gave a harsh bark of laughter. “Is that all?” he asked. “I think we all have that in common. You should check on Victor soon. I don’t like the idea of him being alone too much either.”

            “I will.”

            “And you’ll talk to him about what I said? About assisting him with the operation?”

            William hesitated only a fraction of second before saying, “Yeah. I’ll ask him about it.”

            Jekyll glanced at him one last time before giving a single nod. “Good. And I’ll suggest to Vlad that we post someone to watch our rations. Maybe if we starve Vinny out, we can follow the sound of his stomach growling.”

            William smiled, “Let’s just hope his stomach starts growling before I do.”

 


	24. Henry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the group learns of the connection between Vinny and Hyde.

He was awake, but he didn't get out of bed. He wanted to relax and enjoy a few more moments of peace before going downstairs. With eyes closed, he stretched as far as he could, pulling away from his core through his toes and fingers. He held the position for several long seconds, then relaxed, running his fingers through his hair before dropping his hands to his stomach. He was comfortable.

It was a comfort that wasn't meant to last. His mind inadvertently drifted toward the events of the previous evening. Now as the last few rays of sunlight faded from the chamber, he was reminded that he would soon have to spend another night in the company of, well… monsters.

Frowning to himself, he finally opened his eyes and rolled out of bed, still slightly groggy. He had slept in his clothes again, so there was no need to dress. He began shuffling toward the door, wondering vaguely if William had successfully posted a watch on their food rations during the day. He'd never been called on for watch duty, which meant the others still did not trust him.

His mind still on melancholy thoughts, he stepped on the hem of his trousers and stumbled, nearly falling flat on his face. Cursing under his breath and now fully awake, he noticed for the first time that his pants and sweater were hanging loose and saggy on his usually tall frame. With a sense of foreboding he couldn't quite name, he walked toward the antique mirror hanging on the opposite wall.

It was dusty and its reflective surface was cobwebbed over with lines of decay, but it was still possible to see his reflection. Or it would have been possible, if the face of Edward Hyde hadn't stared back at him instead.

Jekyll's breath caught in his throat. He made not a sound. He did not panic. After the moment of initial shock had passed, he began to breathe normally again. He watched Hyde's face twist into an expression of deep resentment.

This was not the first time this had happened. There were several times in the past in which Jekyll awoke in the guise of his alter-ego, taking the form of the monstrous Hyde but retaining Jekyll's own sense of kindness and compassion. But an instance like this hadn't happened in years. Such spontaneous conversions were common only when the effects of his clever potion had first began to mis-fire. He couldn't imagine what had triggered this sudden return of a long-absent side-effect.

He continued to stare at his reflection as he shook his head. "Victor isn't going to like this…" he muttered to himself, though he took comfort in the fact that at least he was Hyde in form only, and not in deed.

His stomach gave a great growl and he patted it sympathetically. There was no use prolonging the inevitable. He would have to face the others eventually. He might as well do it over breakfast.

With such reasoning in mind to prepare himself for the impending uproar, Jekyll rolled up his sleeves and pants legs to accommodate his new diminutive form.

He partially hoped that because Hyde was smaller, he would require less food to satisfy his hunger. He was hoping to make a decent meal out of whatever rations Vinny hadn't stolen.

As if the mere thought had acted as a summons, Jekyll saw the door swing open, reflected in the mirror over his shoulder. He could see no one enter, but was addressed by the unmistakable voice of Vinny.

"Henry! Boy, am I glad to see you."

He sounded different. Jekyll realized he was speaking with a British accent. He didn't know if it was Vinny's way of mocking him, and he had no idea when he and Vinny had got on such familiar terms. "I wish I could say the same…" he replied with caution, fully aware that Vinny had been missing for days.

"Oh right, sorry."

In a blink, a man appeared before Jekyll. He was short, almost as short as Jekyll in his this form, with dark hair and complexion. He was also completely nude.

Jekyll couldn't prevent himself from shouting in alarm. Vinny, seeing his reaction, must have immediately realized his mistake. He vanished as quickly as he appeared.

Forgetting the change in his own appearance, Jekyll sprinted from the room, stumbling slightly on the edge of his trousers again as the cuffs fell down. He hurtled down the hall, not knowing or caring if Vinny followed him in his invisible state. When he reached the stairs he jumped onto the banister and slid down the rail rather than risk falling down them, a precaution that reminded him painfully of Beth.

Banishing the thought from his mind, he continued to sprint down the hall toward the kitchen, knowing he would find at least one of his roommates there.

Sure enough, William was startled out of a doze as Jekyll burst into the kitchen. There was every sign that he had been camped out there, guarding their dwindling store of food during the daylight hours.

Breathless from his frantic run, Jekyll bent double, hands resting on his knees. He tried to tell William about what he'd just seen, but he wasn't able to get out two words before William was shouting.

"Help! Help me! It's Hyde, he's here! He's in the kitchen!"

Jekyll felt like an idiot for not taking precautions regarding his appearance. "Will, stop! It's me!" he cried, realizing too late that this wasn't a very helpful exclamation.

To his surprise, William actually looked at him with growing comprehension. "Jekyll?" he said, but the damage had already been done. Victor, accompanied by Dorian and Vlad, were already bursting onto the scene.

Victor wasted no time in shoving Jekyll roughly against the wall, his hands locked tightly around Jekyll's throat.

"So, you've finally decided to show your face again, coward," he snarled into Jekyll's face.

Jekyll coughed against the surprising pressure exerted on his windpipe. He had no idea Victor was capable of such strength, nor that he could be so terrifying when angered. "Wait…" he managed to croak, "It's me, it's Jekyll…"

"Do you really expect me to believe that?" Victor hissed, his grip now threatening to crush Jekyll's neck.

Vlad appeared smoothly beside him and gently laid a hand on Victor's arm.

"Frankenstein, allow me."

Victor gave Vlad an impatient glance, but relaxed his hold on Jekyll's neck. He seemed aware that his emotions were getting the better of him, and he allowed the cool-headed vampire to take his place at interrogation.

If Jekyll thought Vlad would be gentler with him, he was sorely mistaken. The only difference in his treatment was that Vlad used one hand to choke him instead of two, and now Jekyll's feet were dangling off the floor, kicking at the air uselessly.

"You have five seconds to tell us what you have been planning, and then I'll break your skull."

"I think you mean _or_ you'll break his skull," Dorian corrected.

"Did I stutter?"

Jekyll could say nothing in his predicament, so he merely croaked again

"Vlad, stop it!" William demanded, laying his hands on Vlad's arm in an attempt to free Jekyll from his grasp. "I think it may actually be Dr. Jekyll!"

Vlad shoved William from him impatiently with his free hand, not deigning to respond to him. Undaunted, William was back in an instant, redoubling his efforts to free Jekyll.

"At least put him down! How is he supposed to answer your questions if he can't even speak!"

"Do it, Vlad!" Victor shouted. He had removed himself a few meters from the small knot of men, presumably to put some distance between himself and the man he viewed as his mortal enemy. "I want to hear his explanation myself."

Victor's angered tone did more to convince Vlad than William's protests ever could. He reluctantly released his hold on Jekyll, who miraculously caught himself before he could fall to the ground. He heard Dorian's tsk of disapproval as he slowly straightened up, rubbing his neck.

"I'm not Hyde!" Jekyll said once he could speak. His voice sounded hoarse. "I know how it must look to all of you, but you have to believe me! I just woke up this way."

"You're a liar," Vlad said simply.

"Obviously you'd want us to believe you were Jekyll in this situation," said Dorian, "Because after what you've done, this lot is out for your blood."

Victor said nothing. The murderous look on his face was enough to express his agreement with the others.

Jekyll turned to William, the only one there who seemed inclined to hear him out. "Will, you believe me, don't you?"

William looked uncomfortable, "You do seem different from before… But why would you look like Hyde if you weren't him?"

"It's happened before when the potion started to go wrong. I sometimes take on his appearance, but I assure you I'm still the same Henry Jekyll I was before."

"Why wouldn't you mention something like that before?" Dorian asked, his expression unkind though quickly fading back into a mask of innocent beauty.

"It hasn't happened in a long time."

"And it just started up again now?" Victor asked, "How convenient."

"Not for me!"

"Prove it! Prove that you really are Jekyll!"

"I don't know how," Jekyll said, feeling desperate.

"We'll ask him something only he would know," William suggested.

"Hyde remembers everything about Jekyll." Vlad reminded him.

"Then ask me to do something I don't want to do!" Jekyll said, thinking fast, "Hyde only acts on his own whim. He'd never willingly do anything he didn't have a mind to do already."

"Alright," said Vlad, "I want you to hit Dorian has hard as you can."

Jekyll complied without hesitation, delivering a swift sucker-punch to Dorian's face before the other man had a chance to defend himself.

"OK, but that one doesn't count," Jekyll said, cradling his newly split knuckles in the un-wounded hand. "I actually really wanted to do that."

"I know. It just made me happy," said Vlad.

"Oh, you can all go fuck yourselves," Dorian said thickly through the blood spilling out of his broken nose. The damage was already healing.

"Will you stop playing around!" Victor demanded.

But the next instant, William was running toward the door, shouting, "I've got it!" He was back in a flash, carrying Vlad's pet skull in both hands.

Vlad stared at him imperiously, "And just what do you think you're doing with that?"

"I was going to ask him to kiss it."

Vlad snatched the skull from William's hands, looking scandalized. Dorian laughed.

"We're wasting time!" Jekyll said, getting fed up by the other's nonsense, "I had something I needed to tell all of you! I've seen him! I've seen Vinny.!"

Vlad's attention was drawn back to Jekyll instantly, as were the gazes of William and Dorian. Victor had never ceased to watch Jekyll carefully.

"You've seen him…" he said slowly, "Interesting choice of words."

"Yes, exactly." Jekyll said, relieved they were finally discussing someone other than him, "But I did actually see him. He was visible. It was just for a moment, but I saw him upstairs."

"But how is something like that possible?"

"I'm not sure, but I think he's always been able to do it. When he saw me he must have assumed I was Hyde, so he revealed himself. When he saw my surprise, he vanished again."

Victor and Vlad exchanged looks of doubt. If they were still convinced that he was really Hyde, they had every reason to believe he'd made the story up to distract them. Jekyll kept talking, hoping more information would lend credence to his identity.

"There's something else… When he spoke to me, thinking I was Hyde, he called me Henry… It confused me at first, but I think he and Hyde must know each other well. Vinny never calls me by my first name."

"You think they might be working together? How would they know each other?"

Jekyll shook his head, "I can't remember… But I think it's obvious now that Hyde is involved in Vinny's plot somehow. If they're both agents of Y, then Hyde… Then I suppose I really am responsible for all of us being stuck here."

Jekyll expected more backlash, especially from Victor. To his surprise, Victor turned his attention to Dorian.

"Well, speak. What do you know about this?"

Dorian pursed his lips together and glared at Victor, "Nothing. I'm out of the loop, remember? You've all cut me off from Y. I don't have any idea what he's planning."

"But you're one of his agents. Surely you've been working with Vinny and Hyde this whole time."

"Not me. I have no idea what they're up to."

Vlad looked ready to punch Dorian himself before Jekyll spoke up again.

"It doesn't matter. I have an idea."

There was a moment of hesitation in which William and Vlad looked to Victor, awaiting his response. When Victor gave a slight nod, they turned their attention back to Jekyll.

"Vlad, do you remember when we first discovered that we were trapped here?"

"How could I forget?"

"Right. Well, we watched you transform into a bat, then a wolf…"

"Yes, I was desperate. I remember," Vlad his patience nearly at an end.

Jekyll smiled for the first time in a long while.

"Do you think you could do it again?"


	25. Captured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the invisible man is found, and Dr. Frankenstein comes to a decision.

            The fog spread from room to room, drifting slowly, but with unnatural purpose. It crept around corners, gliding over the floor before pushing ever upward, filling every corner of the ground floor with a dense, white mist.

            In the study four men waited. None of them spoke a word as the fog moved around them, disturbed slightly by their shallow breathing. Eventually the fog was too thick for them to see the person next to them, but still they waited.

            The mist continued upstairs, sweeping through rooms and prodding dark, forgotten alcoves. Within moments, the mist had twisted through every room in the castle.

            On the second floor, an ancient wardrobe rested heavily on four clawed feet. A tendril of mist snaked its way toward the dark wooden surface, sweeping underneath, over, and around its vast shape, as if testing it. Then the mist slipped through the cracks around the door’s edges.

            Quickly, almost instantly, the mist throughout the castle began retreating toward the wardrobe, as if it were being sucked in by a large vacuum. Faster and faster it slipped in through the cracks, until finally not a speck of fog remained. The wardrobe, despite its weight, began to shake and jump against the floor. The double doors slammed open, and Vlad toppled to the ground, wrestling with a figure he could not see, but could easily feel.

            “He is here! I have him, it worked! We are here!” Vlad said, pulling his invisible captive to his feet.

            “Let go!” Vinny cried pointlessly, his struggles futile against the vampire’s superior strength.

            “Not a chance.”

            “You’ve got my arm twisted the wrong way! Seriously, I think it’s going to break!”

            “Good!”

            Vinny stopped struggling abruptly. “Really, Vlad?” he asked, “After everything we’ve been through together? After all the good times we’ve had? You’re really going to turn me over to those…”

            He didn’t get to finish his thought. Victor, William, Dorian, and Jekyll  had just finished sprinting toward the sound of Vlad’s shouting. Vlad was left musing over when he and Vinny had ever had anything approximating a “good time.”

            “Congratulations, Doctor,” he said to Jekyll instead, choosing to ignore Vinny, “Your plan was a success. All I had to do was find an empty space where my mist could not penetrate.”

            Jekyll smiled. It felt slightly uncomfortable to work the muscles of Hyde’s face. “Well, he can hide his appearance, but he can’t hide his mass.”

            “And I would have gotten away with it too if it weren’t for you meddling kids,” Vinny said ruefully.

            “How can you still make jokes at a time like this?” Vlad said, rolling his eyes heaven-word in what Jekyll considered to be a “Lord give me strength” expression.

            “Hey Vlad, say ‘penetrate’ again. But this time, do it in a huskier voice.” Vinny said by way of response.

            Vlad tightened his grip on Vinny’s wrists. Vinny hissed in pain and renewed his efforts to escape, though even he must have known they would be useless now. Even if he could break Vlad’s grip, he was surrounded on all sides.

            “Enough games, Vinny. We know you can become visible, and we know you’ve been plotting something with Hyde. We want answers,” said Jekyll.

            “But first I want to see you.” Victor added, sounding dangerous. “Make yourself visible. Now.”

            There was a brief pause, then Vinny simpered, “Do I have to?”

            Vlad gripped his wrist again and twisted his invisible arm some more, eliciting a whimper of pain from Vinny.

            “OK, OK! I give! Just let up a little!” Vinny whined. Jekyll noted a shift in his accent again. He sounded English, like he had when he’d addressed Jekyll before, back when he mistook him for Hyde.

            It was like someone had flipped a switch. One second Vlad appeared to be holding nothing, the next a man stood before him, his naked body nearly bent double in an awkward bow to relieve some of the pressure of Vlad’s armlock. His hair was dark and disheveled from his tussle with Vlad, his skin an olive brown. He looked up at them all with a sheepish, very young face, wincing slightly with pain.

            “Ta-da…” he said faintly.

            Jekyll opened his mouth to begin his questioning, but was interrupted by William.

            “You!” he exclaimed. He was staring at Vinny with his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open.

            “Er… yeah…” Vinny said, dropping all pretext of a false accent. He was definitely British.

            “ _You!”_ William said again, seemingly unable to articulate anything beyond this single word.

            “Will, what is it? Jekyll asked.

            “It’s him! The man from the bar!”

Jekyll was sure he was staring at William with a look of incomprehension. One glance toward Victor told him that he was not the only one at a loss.

William must have noticed their blank expressions, because he continued impatiently, “Before my friends and I went into the Black Forest… He’s the last person I spoke to before I was attacked by the werewolf!” He directed his gaze back to Vinny, “ _It was you the whole time_!”

            “Um… surprise?”

            “I’ll kill you!” William screamed, launching himself at Vinny.

                It took both Victor and Jekyll to halt his progress, each of them grabbing hold of one of William’s arms. Even with two grown men weighing him down, William was doing his best to drag them across the floor toward Vinny. But one look from Vlad was enough to quell him.

                “Easy,” he said, his voice the most soothing any of them had ever heard it. It sent chills up Jekyll’s spine. “I have a hold of him. He’s not going anywhere.”

                “You can tear him limb from limb after we’ve questioned him,” Victor added dispassionately.

                Jekyll looked to Vinny, expecting him to have some retort to this last comment, but all Vinny said was “Can I get some pants?”

Jekyll was impressed. He wondered how Vinny could manage to be so calm. William and the others were talking about killing him, and he was concerned about clothes?

“Denied,” said Vlad, “You’ve lost pants privileges.”

Vinny snapped at him, “Oh, it was so important that I wear clothes when I was invisible, but now it’s not a problem when my goods are out for everyone to see?”

This tone had decidedly lost his usual playfulness. Jekyll noticed how his eyes twitched nervously between each of the men, never stopping for long on any one person. Jekyll changed his previous assumption. Vinny wasn’t calm and all. He was panicking.

                “Fine, I’ll start,” William spat, shrugging off Victor and Jekyll’s protective holds. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

                Vinny ran his tongue over his dry lips, stalling for time, “I’m not really sure what you mean by that, Will. I’m a prisoner here, same as the rest of you.”

                “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. It’s not a coincidence that I met you before coming here, is it? You followed me here, didn’t you?”

                “I did a bit more than that…” Vinny muttered

                “ _Excuse me?_ ”

                “What do you mean by that?” Victor interjected.

                “Are you the one responsible for the attack that turned William into a werewolf?” Vlad asked, his grip on Vinny tightening.

                “Ow! Lay off! That’s not what I meant at all!”

                “Then explain!”

                “I sent him here!” Vinny cried out as Vlad twisted his arm far enough to dislocate it. There was no masking his panic now, “I slipped the letter into his backpack while I was invisible! Then I followed him up here to meet the rest of you!”

                “So you must be Y!” Vlad and Victor shouted at the same time, but they were contradicted by Vinny in the next instant.

                “No I’m not!”

                “Then you must be working for him! The letter was signed by Mr. Y! The same as the letters the rest of us received!”

                “That’s because I knew about Y’s plans from the beginning!” Vinny shouted. He was now crying from the pain in his arm. Jekyll felt a pang of pity for him. Vinny didn’t seem much older than William. But any feelings of sympathy were drowned by anger as the implications of what Vinny was saying hit him full-force.

                “I thought if I put Y’s name on the letter, then there’d be less questions when William arrived. But it was never a part of Y’s plan. I swear I don’t work for him…”

                “How did you know about his plans, then?” Jekyll asked coldly. He made a gesture toward Dorian and fixed him with a penetrating stare, “What do you know about this?”

                Dorian’s face, a perfect mask of innocence, was as usual difficult to read. He stared at Vinny, who had dropped his head and was now refusing to look at any of them, with an expression of perplexed interest, but profound detachment. Even if they were comrades in this scheme, it was obvious that Dorian didn’t care in the least about what happened to Vinny.

                “As far as I know, I’m the only person who has been working for Y. I found the mummy and brought him here. I collected the supplies you needed, myself. I arranged for the meeting to take place at Dracula’s castle and I summoned Frankenstein here for the operation.”

                “But William and Vinny were not part of the plan?” asked Victor.

                “I wasn’t told to bring a werewolf or an invisible man into the picture.”

                “But what about…?” Jekyll started to ask, pointing toward himself.

                An unpleasant smirk crossed Dorian’s features before smoothing out into the beautiful mask once again, “I wasn’t asked to bring you, either. Not either one of you.”

                Jekyll scowled. That just confirmed his suspicions that Hyde was an agent of Vinny’s, and apparently whoever it was Vinny was working for.

                “It would have been nice,” Vlad commented lightly, “If you had shared this information with us before.”

                Dorian shrugged, “Like I said, I _think_ I am the only person working for Y, but I am just an errand boy. He never shared with me the details of his plan. When the wolf-boy and Dr. Jekyll arrived, I figured there was probably some reason for it. Either way, so long as they didn’t prevent me from getting my picture back, I really didn’t care.”

                “So you’re saying there’s still a possibility he’s working for Y after all?”

                Jekyll looked toward Vinny, waiting for some sign, but Vinny had retreated deep within himself. He continued to stare at the ground, not moving and apparently not hearing the conversation going on around him.

                Dorian shrugged again, “I’m saying I don’t know, so yes. I suppose he could be.”

                “Sorry to burst your bubble, Dorian. But I’m not like you.” Vinny said suddenly, causing Jekyll to jump. “You’ve got this job because you had something stolen from you, and you want to earn it back. Me? I’m getting paid for this bullshit.”

                “So you’re a mercenary,” Vlad said, chuckling to himself for reasons unknown to the rest of the party. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Who is your employer?”

                “I can’t say.”

                Vlad twisted his arm still further and wrung another cry of pain from Vinny.

                “Ow! I really can’t say! I don’t know his name! I just know that he approached me with a job!”

                “And what was the nature of the job?”

                “To stop Y. He said Y was going to try to resurrect a body and I was supposed to help him prevent that from happening!”

                “Is that why Beth was destroyed?” Victor asked quietly.

                All sound fled from the room and the men were plunged into a frigid silence. Even Vlad seemed to feel that speaking now would be a disastrous idea. Jekyll averted his face from Victor. He was afraid to see the sort of expression he might be making. He turned his attention toward Vinny instead, who unlike Jekyll had craned his neck to stare beseechingly into Victor’s face.

                “She was going to help me bring the mummy back. But Hyde stopped her. He’s your friend, isn’t he? Did your employer tell you to have her killed?”

                “Victor, no… You’ve gotta believe me, I never wanted to see Beth killed! We had to stop her from helping you, but I never meant for Hyde to harm her! Please, you have to believe I had nothing to do with that! I tried to stop him but he had already…”

                “You were there!” Victor hissed, “You were there and you saw him… _And you did nothing?”_

Something about his voice made it impossible for Jekyll to continue to look away. His eyes were drawn toward Victor like iron to a magnet. Victor was pale and trembling, his eyes wide and filled with bright red blood vessels. If Dorian’s face was a mask of innocence, then Victor’s was a mask of pure rage.

                That mask suddenly turned to stare into Jekyll’s eyes, though Jekyll knew what he must be seeing. It was not the face of Dr. Jekyll, but the face of Edward Hyde he wore now, the face of Beth’s killer.

                For a moment, Jekyll feared the rage in that expression would be directed toward him, but when Victor spoke, it was with a surprisingly calm tone.

                “Dr. Jekyll, thank you for your assistance. Without your idea, we may never have caught Hyde’s accomplice.”

                Jekyll didn’t know what to say. He glanced between Vlad and William, hoping to get some idea of how to respond from their expressions. Vlad smirked at him, and William was staring at Vinny with poorly-concealed bloodlust.

                Thankfully, Jekyll didn’t have to say anything. Victor had turned his attention toward Dorian.

                “Mr. Grey, I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear that you can once again be of some use to Mr. Y. I may require your assistance in the lab.”

                Dorian perked up immediately, while Vinny gave a shout of dismay.

                “Do you mean…?”

                “Mr. Y would like me to resurrect a mummy for him, correct?” Victor said, his voice deadly calm as he stared down at the horrified expression on Vinny’s face, “I think I can oblige him, now.”


	26. Before the Worst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Vinny tells the truth.

William inspected the length of rope by the yellow light of the candelabra. It was a crude piece of work, made of bedsheets that had been torn to strips then braided back together. It felt thin and flimsy in his hands.

“Is this the best you’ve got?” he asked.

Vlad scowled. “Sorry, the dungeon is all out of ropes and chains at the moment. I’m afraid you’ll have to wait for the next shipment.”

“Well it’s not going to work,” said William, tossing the makeshift rope back to Vlad. “It'd take me less than a second to rip through. Might make a nice chew toy, though. Yeah, on second thought, I’ll take it back.”

William held out his hand, but Vlad did not pass the rope back to him right away. He looked at William curiously, trying to discern whether the werewolf was messing with him or not. When William continued to meet his stare without laughing, Vlad handed the rope back to him with a shrug.

“So what do you want to do about that?”

Vlad jerked his head toward the beaten and battered lump of a man laying on the floor. Vlad had attempted to get more information out of him, but without success. As punishment for his tight lips, Vlad had made good on his word to deny Vinny any clothing, adding insult to his many injuries. William wasn’t evensure if Vinny was still conscious, but he tried not to let any concern show.

“You could always leave him down here. I’m sure I’ll be hungry once I’ve transformed.”

Vlad shrugged again. What little interest he might have had in Vinny's wellbeing had completely disappeared. If Vinny had no information for them, Vlad considered him a disposable item.

“You’ll need to barricade the door.”

“Will that do?” Vlad said, pointing to his own coffin.

“Something heavier than that, I think.”

Vlad thought for a moment, then said, “We could always use the other… the sarcophagus. Though it will be troublesome to get it up those stairs. I don’t know how Gray managed it before.”

“I can give you a hand.” William offered. Vlad accepted with a nod and soon they successfully slid the sarcophagus to the top of the cellar stairs, William pulling from one end while Vlad pushed from the other. Will didn’t know why Vlad said it would give him trouble. He practically had to run up the stairs backward to prevent the vampire from running him down with their heavy burden. Once they reached the top, William was the only one panting from the effort.

“You’d probably better go and get him, after all.” William said. “There’s no guarantee I’d actually kill him, and we don’t need two werewolves under one roof.”

“You watch him for now. I want to get more furniture to block this door.”

“Vlad, I think the sarcophagus will be more than enough. That and your coffin…”

“The last thing I want is for a mad wolf to be running rampant through my castle again.”

William almost reminded Vlad that his previous rampage had been entirely the vampire’s fault, though he bit his tongue. He wanted to make sure he was kept well away from the others tonight, so there was no point in arguing if Vlad wanted some extra security.

He returned to the cellar and found Vinny sitting up, staring at him with eyes so wide he could see the whites all round his iris.

“Are you really going to keep me down here, Will?”

It was a relief to see him awake and alert, though William covered this sentiment with a glare. “So you weren’t sleeping. I knew it.”

“Did you? It was a surprise to me. I came to as you were talking about mauling me.”

“I never said I was going to maul you.”

“Oh sorry, my mistake. I meant when you said you would _eat_ me.”

William winced slightly, unable to hide his reaction this time. His own words sounded harsh when repeated back to him, even if it had been an empty threat. But he tried to hold on to the anger he felt before. After all, Vinny had betrayed them... Hadn't he?

“I don’t want to eat you or anyone,” he said truthfully, “But you’d deserve it after what you’ve put all of us through.”

Vinny’s eyes grew, if possible, even wider. “What I’ve…?” he choked, his voice rising so that it echoed off the walls of the cellar. William shushed him reflexively. His ears were more sensitive this close to a full moon.

Vinny dropped his voice to a hiss, “What exactly have I done to _you_ , Will? _I_ didn’t make you a werewolf! I didn’t come up with this _stupid plan_!”

“But you got me stuck here!” William said, hissing back at Vinny in turn. “I wasn’t a part of the plan! Y didn’t want me!”

“Damnit William, what else was I supposed to do...?” Vinny’s protest was cut short as he flinched in pain and stifled his voice.

“Hold still,” Will said impatiently. He crossed to Vinny in a few strides and knelt in front of him. Before Vinny could shy away from his hands, he grasped Vinny’s dislocated shoulder and quickly popped it back into place. Vinny let out a small cry of pain, then looked at Will in astonishment as he rolled his shoulder in small circles. Will remained crouched in front of him, his glare still fixed firmly on his face.

“One question.”

Vinny averted his gaze, “I already told you. I don’t know anything else about the man who hired me.”

“I’m not interested in him. I just want to know if any of it was true.”

Vinny didn’t waste his time by asking what William was talking about. His eyes held steady as he met the werewolf’s glare head-on.

“Everything I told you about me is true. My grandfather and the first invisible man... Griffin, that was his name. I learned everything from his notebooks. He could never switch back and forth like I can, though. I improved the original formula. I just didn’t mention it before because… Well, I didn’t see any reason why you should know. But I never lied.”

William felt an inkling of recognition at the name Griffin. He realized that this had been the name Vinny gave when they first met. He’d used the original invisible man’s name as an alias. Inwardly, he cursed himself for not reading more. If he’d realized the connection sooner, he might have known of Vinny’s involvement in the conspiracy from the start.

For some reason, revealing the name added some credibility to Vinny's story. There was a ring of truth to what he was saying, but William still wasn’t satisfied. He needed to know more, but he wasn't ready to ask the most difficult question yet.

“Why did you become a mercenary?” he asked instead, finding it easier to hear Vinny talk about himself.

This caught Vinny by surprise. “For the money, obviously,” he said.

“Didn't you say your family was rich? And it was all thanks to the money your grandfather stole from Griffin?”

“Told you already, didn’t I? My parents disowned me when I dropped out of school. But I wasn't about to waste time in class when there's so many interesting things one can do when one can become invisible. Still, a man has to eat. So I followed in the footsteps of great-granddad Thomas and became a thief for hire. Funnily enough, this was the first job were I wasn't asked to steal something.”

He was still talking, and he still sounded truthful. He also sounded more like his old self. It worried William. Vinny was a good talker, but that didn't make him trustworthy. William wondered if he was sharing all of this because it was just the two of them, or if he'd finally had enough time to think up a good enough lie. Or maybe Vinny just figured his own life story didn’t matter. William still didn't know for sure.

He hadn't realized that Vinny had gone silent until he glanced up from his hands and saw Vinny staring at him.

“Aren't you going to ask me what you really want to know, Will?”

He wanted to know why Vinny had been in that bar that night. He wanted to know why he’d been followed, why he’d been bitten, why he’d been brought to this castle a million miles from home to play witness to a game of shadows between two nameless, faceless beings, both of whom used supernatural figures as pawns. The thoughts swirled like a tornado through his mind and came out in one simple, childlike question.

“Why me?”

Vinny looked at him with genuine pity in his eyes. “You were an accident. But I swear, I had nothing to do with that attack! I was in the pub that night because I’d come in search of the werewolf. There were rumors among the sort of people who know about these things that a werewolf had appeared in the Black Forest. My employer... he suggested that I form a team as a sort of backup. Y was going to have Frankenstein and Dracula... I thought a werewolf might add a bit of muscle. The fact that I ran into you and your friends was a complete coincidence, I swear. But then... you went into the forest. I followed, invisible, and I… I saw you get attacked.”

He hesitated, and William wondered for a moment if he was using the pause to choose what to say next. Perhaps he was lying after all, and he needed a break to practice his next falsehood. Then again, he might simply be reliving what he had seen that night...

William was on the brink of reliving that night himself, but Vinny's vocie brought him back to the present.

“When your friends came,” he said, “I followed you to the clinic where they patched you up.”

“But _why_?”

“I wanted to make sure you were OK. But also… I already knew what would happen next. You survived a werewolf attack. You don’t walk away from that with only a few fleas. And you were already showing signs…”

William nodded. He knew about the signs. He wanted to know more; wanted Vinny to tell the rest of his story. Thankfully, Vinny seemed to be in a talking mood.

“I kept close to you guys, staying invisible, biding my time. Before long, even you realized what had happened. You transformed for the first time without your friends knowing, but I saw it. After that, your friends left. You stayed behind. I never did hear what you told them.”

“I said I wanted to see more of Germany.” William said hollowly, thinking back tot he last time he'd seen a friendly face. “They wanted to go on to Austria. I just said I’d catch up to them in the States.”

Vinny nodded. He didn’t ask why Will’s friends had accepted this lie so easily. He just continued to tell his tale, as if needing to share the story as much as William needed to hear it.

“After they’d gone, I slipped the note inside your backpack while you slept. It was there for days before you found it. I was afraid it would be time to leave for the job before you got it, but you finally did. So I followed you on the train, the taxi, the bus, and finally the hike that brought us to the castle. And here we are.”

“And here we are.” William repeated, finally leaning away from Vinny, rocking back on his heels till he fell with a soft thud onto his rear. He sat there, staring blankly at Vinny, his arms resting atop his bent knees.

“And was it worth it?” he said after they'd surveyed each other in silence for a while, “Have you found my ‘muscle’ as useful as the original werewolf’s would have been?”

“It’s not about that anymore, Will.” Vinny said sorrowfully, dropping his chin to his chest in a gesture of defeat. “We’re past all that now.”

“What does _that_ mean?”

Vinny raised his head. His wide eyes were now staring intently at the stone roof above them, as if his stare could render the wooden support beams and thick mortar as invisible as he could turn his skin and bone, and he wanted to see what was going on above him.

“They’re working on it right now, aren’t they? Victor and Jekyll and Dorian. They’re going to bring back the mummy, just like Y wants.”

“Hasn’t that been the plan from the beginning? It’s the only way to get us out of here.”

“Not my plan. My plan was to stop it from happening. And now I’m probably not getting paid. Hell, I’ll be lucky if I get out of this alive.”

“What about Hyde? How does he fit into all this?”

“Henry? We go way back. Jekyll doesn’t remember, of course, because I never met him before coming here. Just Henry. He’s a laugh.”

“He killed Beth.”

“Oh right… Maybe not such a funny guy after all, I guess.”

Vinny glanced back at William and quailed under the force of his glare.

“Come on, Will! You don’t still think I put Henry up to it, did you? That wasn’t part of the plan!”

“Your plan to stop us from reanimating the mummy? The one Beth was going to help us achieve? You’re saying you weren’t told to stop it from happening at any cost?”

“Not that cost, Will! I was never ordered to kill people! That’s not the kind of work I do!”

“But that’s what Hyde was for, wasn't it? To get his hands dirty?”

Vinny didn’t have a retort for that. He dropped his head again and was silent for several long moments. William looked at him and gave a heavy sigh. Vinny looked so broken and helpless now, without a friend in the world, dressed in nothing but a fragment of torn bedsheet. He'd been different when he was invisible - all confidence and lame jokes and bravado. It was hard to stay angry with the new Vinny. He was just too sad.

“Can you answer just one more question?”

“Sure, Will. I’m on a bit of a roll. Why not see it through?” Vinny said, with just a glimmer of his old self.

“Why is it so bad if we bring back the mummy, anyway? What can be so terrible about giving a man back his life?”

Vinny turned this thought over for a few seconds, seemingly unsure himself. “I don’t know for sure. I mean, I can’t tell you what my employer is thinking, because he hasn’t even told me. But I can tell you what I suspect… Have you ever seen 28 days later?”

“Huh?” William asked, blindsided by the randomness of the question.

“You know, with the zombies? Only in that case the virus was spread by some kind of monkey disease or something. It’ll be different now, what with the creepy self-healing corpse upstairs. Some kind of mummy’s curse voodoo…”

“Hold on, you’re saying you think the mummy…”

“Is patient zero, man! Y’s trying to start a damn zombie apocalypse, and we’re going to be at the start of it!”

“Vinny, zombies aren’t…” He was about to say “real” but cut himself off. Weren't things like werewolves and vampires supposed to be fiction as well? William found himself following Vinny's example, staring at the ceiling and wondering if they were really doing the right thing by bringing the dead back to life. Maybe the Egyptians had a good reason for mummifying him in the first place?

William heard the heavy footfalls of Vlad’s approach as he jogged down the stairs, snapping him back to reality.

“I think I've got enough. It should hold,” Vlad said, clapping his hands together in a ‘my job is done’ sort of way. “The sun is fully down and the moon is on the rise. I’ll just take this and leave you to it.”

Vlad gripped Vinny by the arm and pulled him roughly to his feet. The moon really must have been nearly risen, as Vlad wasn’t wasting any time to stand around and chat. William merely watched them go with a feeling of dread he couldn’t quite shake. It didn’t help that Vinny called out to him on his way up the steps.

“I hope that they don’t get it finished too quickly, Will! I’d hate to have you miss out on all the fun.”

 


	27. Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Frankenstein's work pays off.

First there was pain. Excruciating, nerve-tearing pain. It ripped through him like lightning splitting an old, dry tree. The fire spread through his veins, then burned through his muscle, contrasting with the icy cold dagger that pierced his lungs with each ragged breath.

Then there was light, so blinding white that he could not tell if his eyes were open or closed.

Sound came next. Muffled at first, the noise sounded like a conversation happening somewhere very far away. Then came a rapid crescendo, and the muffled voices were now deafening in their intensity. Someone was screaming in a high, tortured wail. It took several seconds for him to realize the cries were his own.

Spasms rocketed through is muscles, causing his limbs to thrash out against his will. His voice was still being ripped from him in a wail he was powerless to control. The pain was too severe. His eyes, which had been shut against the blinding light, finally snapped open. He could make out blurry forms which tried to subdue him, to pin him down to the hard surface he was lying on.

Pain made him afraid - afraid of these unknown people whose voices were too loud and their light that was too bright. In his fear, he believed they were causing him this unendurable agony.

He didn’t know how long this torture lasted, but gradually, the light lost its sharp edge. His vision became clear. The sound was more endurable, and he realized these strangers were speaking to each other in soft tones, not the shouts and cries he imagined earlier. Their hands were upon him, holding him down, but he no longer believed they were trying to hurt him. They were trying to stop him from harming himself.

He had screamed until his throat was sore, and he had a terrible headache, but the slight feeling of discomfort was preferable to what he had endured only seconds before. What had happened to him? What could have caused that horrible pain? Was he dying?

Had he died?

Gazing at the pale faces which surrounded him, a group of strange people wearing strange clothes, he didn’t think this was the afterlife he had been promised. He closed his eyes, exhausted, wanting nothing more than to sink back into oblivion. But the darkness would not come. Images started to rise unbidden to his mind - memories of a time long past…

He saw women with curled hair and powered faces, rendering their white skin even more ghostly. They wore skirts like rare flower petals and their waists seemed impossibly small. Most were draped on the arms of men dressed like ravens with a sudden shock of pure white at their neck, spilling over their chests. They wore hats of the same pitch darkness which exaggerated the height of their head. Everywhere there was movement and joy as the couples danced through rooms filled with opulent, gilded furnishings.

**_Yes…_ **

_ …  _ But this was not familiar to him. This was not his time. His was a land of yellow sand and tall buildings made of mud-brick and clay. The people there were dark-skinned and sweetly familiar as he pictured them in his mind’s eye. In the desert land he saw the wide river, ibis and hippopotami wading near the shore. Long boats carried the wealthy along the river while slaves rowed. A woman with kohl lined eyes laughed next to him. She smiled…

… And sang. Another woman was standing on a stage lit by footlights. The orchestra in the pit was playing a song, low and sweet. He could see the dancing arms of the conductor, moving the mass of players to greater swells of sound, while the woman’s voice soared above a crowded theater toward a great glittering chandelier…

**_Christine…_ **

… A small vial glittered in the hand of a man wearing a black wig woven into tight braids. He wore a long white robe stitched with gold tread, and he was explaining something to him…

**_No…_ **

… He was at the opera again, scrawling words across thick parchment in black ink. He folded the paper and sealed the note with hot wax. The stamp was shaped like a skull…

Two lifetimes flitted in his mind, back and forth. But which was real? He tried to clear his mind, to focus on the present in order to save his sanity. It helped to focus on the dull, persistent throbbing in his temple. This tiny, manageable pain helped settle him back into the present.

**_No…!_ **

Despair filled him, but the emotion did not belong to him. Where it came from, he did not know, but he felt sorry for the voice inside his mind. The voice that was not his own.

**_Die…!_ **

_ I tried, my friend, but I don’t think I can. _

Anger, disappointment, sadness, they rushed through him and just as quickly vanished. And he was alone. Thoughts of the past were easily brushed aside. His body still ached, but his breath no longer hurt him. He opened his eyes, and stared back at the pale faces staring at him.

“Well, that was fun.”

“ _ Shut up _ , Vinny.”

“Is it always so noisy when you bring someone back from the dead, Victor?”

“I said shut it.”

They spoke English. It surprised him that new knew what language this was. He couldn’t be certain, but he was fairly sure he hadn’t spoken English before.

The two speakers continued their argument while he observed his surroundings. He was still lying on what he now realized was a long, narrow table. There were people all around him, five in number, all male. One, a young blond of surpassing beauty, stared down at him anxiously.

“Did it work?” asked the beautiful stranger, but he didn’t know how to answer the question.

Instead he frowned and made an effort to sit up. He didn’t like the others staring down at him like this. Another stranger, as young as the first but with brown curly hair and a sickly pallor, gently pushed his shoulder back down. His expression was compassionate. Was he worried for him? The sentiment kept him from feeling resentful for trying to keep him down, but he still made the attempt.

Shrugging off the young man’s hand, he drew himself into a sitting position. It was a mistake. The room swayed. He had risen; the room was slow to follow. He spun to swing his legs over the side of the table, another mistake, the sudden motion made his stomach lurch.

He doubled over, resisting the urge to vomit, and realized quite suddenly that he was naked. He recognized this for what it was, and felt no embarrassment. Instead, he took a moment to inspect the condition of his body. Dark skin, like the people in one set of memories, and miraculously whole. He had expected to see wounds and bruises after the pain he’d felt, but there wasn’t a scar or mark on him.

The urge to vomit had passed, and he was able to look up and observe the rest of the strangers. One among them was nearly as naked as himself, clad in only a dingy rag tied about his waist. He was the only one among the strangers with dark skin, though it was still fairer than his own. The others were clothed from head to foot in very strange garments. The man in the rag had his hands bound behind his back. He wondered what the dark-skinned man had done to warrant his current situation. Was he a slave? Would he face the same fate?

Images were stealing their way into his mind again. Women again, dancing on the tips of their toes, their slim feet extending high over their heads in impossible contortions. He shook his head from side to side to erase the images. He did not hear the voice again.

“Can you understand me?” asked the beautiful one.

“Yes,” he said, his throat dry and raspy, though his voice was low and deep. It surprised him to hear himself answer in this strange, foreign tongue.

The blond man was pleased. He turned to look at the others clustered behind him with an exultant smile, then he turned back.

“And are you… You?”

Once again, he didn’t understand the question. Perhaps he did not know this language as well as he’d guessed? He stared blankly at the man, little older than a boy, and saw his face lapse back into anxiety.

“What’s your name?” asked the other young man, the one who looked slightly ill.

He felt like he had come to some crisis. The boy had asked for his name. Did he know it? So many memories swirling around in his head, and he couldn’t remember which was real. He needed to give this man a name. He felt if he could accomplish that, the rest would fall into place. He just needed to tell him his name. So why was it so hard?

He found that allowing the words to come naturally was easier than trying to focus on his answer. If he thought too hard, the words just slipped away, like water running through his fingers.

Suddenly, one of the others stepped forward. He didn’t appear as young as the first two, though he was much shorter. There was something unsettling about his face, though he had no observable deformity. He disliked him instantly.

“What can you tell us about yourself?” this stranger asked, since he had failed to answer the first question.

It took him several long moments to work out what he was asking him.

“I remember… Sailing on a river. It had flooded over the banks. And I remember… a temple? A place to study and worship.”

He thought he saw the beautiful young man’s face take on an ashen hue, but when he looked again he saw no change. He wondered if he had imagined it, and hoped he had not said anything to upset the boy. He looked back at short man and saw him nod, encouraging him to say more.

“Then there is someplace else. It had great columns of stone, but it was not a place of worship. There was music and singing and dancing on a stage. Great crowds of people would come to watch. They spoke another language there.”

“Was it French? You were in France?” said the beautiful blond, seeming pleased. The anxiety he’s shown before seemed to have melted away.

“I don’t know. I must have been.”

But he knew it was a lie. He had never been to France, but he didn’t want to disappointment the young man again. And yet why could he remember that place? Why was the opera house familiar?

“Do you remember your name?” the beautiful boy suddenly asked again. He sounded desperate.

The crucial question. His name, did he remember it? His head was splitting again. He tried to ignore the pain. He had to remember his name. But the dull throb was growing sharper, collecting behind one eye. Deliriously, he thought if he had a spoon he could scoop his eye out and the pain would go away.

He forced the word out past his teeth, nearly spitting them out with the effort it took to speak, “Parmes.”

This time he really did see the color drain from the young man’s face. “What did you say?” he asked.

“My name is Parmes.”

There, he had said it. The waves of pain subsided in an instant, leaving him only with his sore and aching body. He still felt wrong, in many ways, but he was content with the truth of what he’d just said. His name was Parmes, and with that knowledge came a flood of old memories, but he pushed them from his mind, preferring to stay in the present. There would be time to remember his past later.

“Well, allow me to be the first to congratulate you, Frankenstein,” said the man who was short and undefinably unpleasant. “You did it.”

“We all did it,” said another blond, speaking up for the first time. The smile on his lips did not quite reach his eyes.

The younger blond stared into empty space, shaking his head slowly. “No, we didn’t, he said. “We failed.”

The others looked at him in silence, wondering at the meaning behind his words. But the moment was short-lived. They were interrupted by a great shuddering. He became aware of the room he was in for the first time. He was in a wide hall made of stone. Chairs and tables made of darkly stained wood were scattered around. Atop various surfaces rested bottles of glass and strange contraptions he didn’t recognize. The room was lit by sconces on the walls which emitted a strange, hard light. They did not flicker like the candle flames he had been used to. And all of it - the chairs, tables, and bottles - were shaking.

The men cried out in alarm as one by one the hard lights in the wall sconces exploded with a flash and the sound of breaking glass. The bottles and vials fell to the floor and shattered or exploded without apparent cause. He followed the example of the others and threw his arms over his face to protect it from flying shards as darkness fell.

The shaking stopped as quickly as it had begun. The rumbling that accompanied the incident stopped, and all was silent.

“OK,” said the voice of the man who he’d seen bound at the wrists before, though it was now too dark to see him, “What the hell was that about?”

At first, no one had an answer. Then, without warning, someone struck a match. He followed the light with his eyes and saw someone touch the end of a cigarette, then they lit a candelabra sitting on a nearby table. By the dim light, a sixth man was revealed. Parmes felt certain he hadn’t been there when the lights had been on.

His face was tanned and heavily lined, like a man who had spent years toiling in the sun.  He had a grey mustache and thick, bushy eyebrows. Atop his head was perched a black felt hat.

The man surveyed their expressions of shock calmly. He took a drag off the cigarette and let the smoke drift out from his mouth in rings. When he spoke, it was with a thick, twangy accent.

“What y’all have here is a good ol’fashion hauntin’.”


	28. New Sheriff in Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the identity of Mr. Y is revealed, many questions are answered, and many more are left unanswered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. It's good to be back. I'm happy to announce that NaNoWriMo was a splendid success, and as I wrap up the end of The Y Files, I will have another fanfic complete and ready to present. I hope you all enjoy Harry Potter.
> 
> Anyway, here's the next chapter. Thank you for reading this far, and for your patience between updates. I know I keep saying this, but there's really not much more of the story left to tell. I can't give the exact number of chapters remaining, but I hope to finish the story by the end of the year.
> 
> Happy holidays. And as always, happy reading. - jinxauthor

“Who the hell are you?” Victor demanded.

The man in the black felt hat removed the burning cigarette from his lips and grinned, “I'm not Erik, if that's what yer thinkin'.”

“ _Who the fuck is Eric_?”

“That's yer ghostie,” said the man. He placed his cigarette firmly between his lips and set the glowing candelabra on a nearby table next to a pile of neatly folded clothes. Then he turned with the rapidity of a striking snake and threw something at Vinny. Victor flinched as a large, gleaming knife embedded itself in the wood table right next to where Vinny sat. Vinny didn't seem the least bit alarmed. On the contrary, he scooted himself gratefully toward the weapon and began sawing off the makeshift rope which bound his arms behind his back. While he worked, The Man Who Was Not Erik grabbed the pile of laundry and tossed it carelessly over Vinny's head.

“Alright there, Sonny?”

“Yeah sure,” Vinny said scornfully. The knife was sharp; he made short work of the thin sheets binding his wrists. Soon he was pulling the shirt over his head, wincing slightly from his still-fresh bruising. “Took you long enough, didn't it?”

“Wait, you're his employer?” William asked, catching on to their relationship a second faster than Victor.

Not-Erik winked at him slyly, “That does seem to be the case, don't it?”

“I don't believe it,” said Jekyll, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Well you should, 'cause that's him.” Vinny said just as he finished pulling a pair of trousers over his bare legs. Now fully dressed but for lack of shoes, Vinny turned his attention to the wicked looking knife still stuck in the able. He yanked it out of the wood and gave it an appraising stare before tucking it, rather unwisely, into the waistband of his trousers.

“I'm keeping this,” he said brazenly to his employer.

“Be insulted if yeh didn't,” was Not-Erik's careless reply.

“Who are you?” Jekyll demanded, clearly not satisfied with the evasive answer Victor had been given for the same question only moments ago. “What are you doing here?”

But The Man Who Was Not Erik was in no rush to satisfy anyone's curiosity. “All in good time, son,” he said, “All in good time.”

Not-Erik took another drag off his cigarette, his eyes not on Jekyll, but on the resurrected mummy, or Parmes, as he said his name was. The man surveyed him, his light gray eyes narrowed into thin slits. Suddenly, he dropped his cigarette to the floor and crushed it underfoot, then made his way toward Parmes as quickly as he'd thrown the knife to Vinny. He stopped just short of where Parmes sat and beamed down at him. Parmes merely watched him with a vague sort of curiosity.

“Well, you ol' snake in the grass! Jus' look at ya! Deader'an a doornail a few minutes ago and now lookin' sweeter n' a fresh-cut daisy! An' you wrestled off ol' Erik to boot. Boy, I'll bet you surprised him. Hell, you surprised me too, you ol' coot! Didn't know you still had it in you. Figured there'd be no more surprises left for me at my age, but no, no. I'd ask to shake your hand, but I'm not sure what it'd do to ya! Ha Ha!”

He finished his rant with a loud laugh. Parmes looked at him in confusion, before leaning closer to William and whispering in a quiet, but still clearly audible voice, “Help me... I have no idea what he is saying.”

William appeared startled. He had been staring at Not-Erik with an expression of open bewilderment. Now he turned his attention to Parmes, caught off guard by the sudden request for help.

“Oh, um... Well, he said...” William paused, looking lost. He turned his face back toward the stranger, “Sorry, but... What exactly are you talking about?”

The man gripped his hat – a black stetson – and rubbed a hand over his perfectly smooth head before replacing it. “Right,” he said, “Y'all want answers. Sure, I understand. But I'll tell ya what, it's awful shady in here since Erik shut out the light, and I happen to know of a nice warm fire there in the study. What say we take our little party someplace cozy, hm?”

Victor joined the others as they continued to stare at him in incredulous amazement. Vinny was the one exception, as he was already making his way toward the closed door of the dining room. He paused with his hand on the doorknob when he saw no one else was following and he looked over his shoulder at them, clearly wondering why everyone was lingering in a dark room lit only by the grainy light of a single candelabra.

Not-Erik was also perturbed by their stillness. “Come on, now! If it's going to be story-time, we might as well circle round the campfire!”

Still no one stirred. The cowboy gave a harrumph that fluttered the edges of his mustache, then he turned and walked toward the door himself. He motioned for Vinny to lead the way, and the pair of them began walking down the hall, chatting as they went. Victor and Jekyll exchanged a glance before Jekyll turned to follow the pair down the hall, worried lest the duo leave their sight. He didn't leave before gripping Dorian's arm tightly, steering him toward the door. Dorian seemed to be in a kind of daze. Jekyll had to half-drag him toward the study. Victor was about to follow them when William stopped him.

“Victor wait!” he called out. Victor paused and turned back to see William helping Parmes gently to his feet.

“It's late,” Willaim said by way of explanation, “I need to get to the cellar before moonrise. Can you help Parmes?”

Victor stared at the mummy – or the man who was once a mummy. It occurred to him that this was only the second creation he had made since discovering the secret to reanimating the dead, not including the experiments he had made on himself. But Parmes had been endowed with gifts of his own even before Victor's interference. His face was not the scarred and mutilated visage of Victor's monster. He bore no signs of bodily corruption. The only sign that he had gone through any sort of life-altering event was the difficulty he had standing. Even now he rested most of his weight on William's shoulder. As Victor observed his struggle, Parmes glanced up at him and offered a tentative smile.

“Of course,” said Victor, snapping out of his reverie, “Let me help.”

He stood on Parmes' other side and gently wrapped an arm around the man's shoulders to keep him from falling as William pulled away. William paused just long enough to give Parmes a pat on the back and an encouraging smile, then he made his way into the hall, moving in the opposite direction of the study at a rapid jog. Victor began to walk slowly, careful not to rush, and continued to make his way down the hall with the second creature he'd ever brought back from the dead.

“Why must William go to the... cell-lair?” Parmes asked, stumbling over the pronunciation of the final word.

“With everything that's happened, that's the first thing you ask?”

“... I have many questions.”

“Yes? Well, join the club.”

“... This is a club? What sort of club is it?”

“Oh... Nevermind. Just come along.”

When they joined the others, The Man Who Was Not Erik was standing near the fireplace. The fire was once again roaring in the grate, though they had run out of firewood ages ago. Victor noticed a neat pile of fresh, dry wood stacked near the hearth, and assumed the stranger had brought it in with him. How he had managed to get in was still a mystery.

“Front door,” said The Man Who Was Not Erik in response to Victor's unasked question. “Don't bother checkin' it, Dorian. It locked behind me.”

Dorian had made a sudden movement toward the doorway, but halted at the cowboy's words. He shot him a malevolent glare, then resumed his position next to Jekyll. The two men stood a comfortable distance away from the warmth of the fire. Their body language mirrored one another, arms crossed defensively over their chests, expressions dark. Vinny was the only one of their number who was seated. He looked very comfortable sitting cross-legged on the sofa, hands resting lightly on his knees, sharp knife laid carefully along one thigh.

Victor helped Parmes toward the sofa, maneuvering him so that he could sit next to Vinny. Vinny, who spent more than an acceptable amount of time in the nude, was completely comfortable next to Parmes' nakedness. He offered the man a wide grin. Parmes tentatively smiled in response. Ensured of his creation's comfort, Victor straightened up and faced the stranger. Like Jekyll and Dorian, he preferred to stand for this encounter.

“So, we're still prisoners here?” Victor asked.

“Yessir. But don't you go blamin' me for that misfortune. It's Erik that's put y'all here, and it's Erik that can set you free.”

“But I don't understand. I... We did everything Y asked of us.”

“Erik,” The Man Who Was Not Erik corrected.  
“... We did everything _Eric_ asked of us... but he's still not letting us go?”

Not-Erik smiled enigmatically, “Ah, but that's the trouble. Ya did everythin' he asked ya to do, butcha didn' give 'em what he wanted. Isn't that right, Dorian?”

Dorian met Not-Erik's stare with a shiver and looked away. He still hadn't said a word since the cowboy had arrived. Victor recalled his odd behavior right after Parmes had awakened. He had been as eager as the rest of them to see how the experiment would end, though he seemed almost frightened to hear Parmes' name. Now Victor found himself wondering if Dorian new something the others didn't about the identify of their new friend.

He would have asked Dorian himself, but was interrupted by the arrival of Vlad. He stepped quietly into the room, though with tensions running high any addition, no matter how unobtrusive, could not be missed by their group. He hesitated briefly in the doorway, keenly aware that all eyes were now on him instead of Dorian. He seemed unperturbed by the attention, and fixed his stare directly back at Not-Erik, taking in the newcomer's distinctly western appearance.

Apparently satisfied with his brief survey, he casually handed a shirt and a pair of trousers toward Parmes, who accepted them gratefully. Victor watched as Parmes began to dress himself with Vinny's help. He kept grinning at Vinny as if to say “Look! We've both got clothes now! How nice for us!” Victor envied his ability to rejoice in small pleasures.

“William filled me in on the developments,” Vlad was now saying to the group. It was evident that this was how he knew to bring Parmes a change of clothes.

“He is fine,” Vlad continued in response to a pointed look from Jekyll, “All fur and fangs at the moment, but safe and sound in the cellar. I left him curled up, asleep on the floor.”

“I did not think he seemed so very hairy,” Parmes commented.

Vlad smirked at him, chuckled lightly, and said, “He turns into a wolf from time to time.”

Parmes absorbed this information with perfect poise, nodded his head, and said no more.

Vlad then settled himself into his preferred armchair, which happened to be exceedingly near to where Not-Erik was standing. Unlike the others, Vlad did not seem to mind the proximity. He looked quite comfortable facing this unknown entity, with one leg crossed over the other and fingers laced loosely in his lap.

“So... Are you going to offer us an explanation?” Vlad asked, shocking Victor with his polite attitude. There was the usual hint of threat behind his words, to be sure, but Vlad rarely bothered with outward manners. He was either very impressed by The Man Who Was Not Erik, or he simply didn't care what happened anymore.

“We were just getting to that when yeh joined us, Vlad!” Not-Erik said cheerfully, “I was about to suggest that Dorian let y'all know whose brain he had y'all put inside of our friend here.”

Parmes looked around the room with some interest, clearly wondering who the cowboy might be referring to. He looked quite shocked to see everyone else staring at him.

“Whose... brain?” he echoed, reaching up to his own bald scalp. “You mean... I do not have my own brain inside of my head?”

No one spoke at first, because no one was sure how to explain everything that had happened to Parmes, who had only just woken up from a centuries-long nap. Parmes continued to rub his hands over his bare scalp, as if searching for signs that his head had been tampered with. Victor finally took pity on him and said, “You were mummified.” When Parmes looked at him in confusion, Victor added, “Your body was preserved, but most of your organs had been removed. We had to put a new brain inside you to bring you back.”

Parmes needed a few moments to process this information, then he asked, “Then who am I?” He jabbed his thumb at his chest. “Am I this man?” He pointed at his head, “Or am I this...?”

Victor didn't know what to say. When he had built his first creature, he created a man with no memory, no history, and no soul. Parmes seemed different. He could remember things from a previous life. But whether those were the memories from the brain he had put in or from something else altogether, he didn't not know.

In contrast, Not-Erik was certain of his answer when he said, “Oh, yer you, alright,” though this was incomprehensible to anyone else. “It's Parmes, isn't it? That's what yer called?”

“Yes...” Parmes said, still sounding unsure of himself.

“Well, Parmes. You've got another man's brain in your head, if you can believe that. And that's the whole reason these boys are in such a scrape now. Weren't yer fault, of course. I imagine Erik thought with his brain in your body, he'd be in control. But you sure showed him!”

“I did?” Parmes asked, still confused.

But Victor had just realized something very alarming.

“Eric's brain?” he asked, “You mean Y? I put Y's brain into the mummy?”

“Do you mean to tell me that Y is dead?” Vlad asked, shooting a dangerous glare toward Dorian. Dorian avoided his gaze, preferring instead to stare mutely at his own feet. “He's... a phantom?”

“I did say y'all were being haunted, didn't I? I guess you weren't here for that part, Vlad. Yep, it's ol' Erik that's donated his own brain to y'all. And he's been causing all kinds of mischief on top of that, what with stealing Dorian's picture and trickin' Victor into helpin' him.”

“There's still so much that I don't understand,” Jekyll said, “Who is this Eric, anyway? And what is your connection with him?”

The Man Who Was Not Erik reached into one of the pockets on his long duster coat and pulled out a worn paperback book. He threw it at Jekyll, who managed to catch it. Jekyll turned the book over in his hands and read the title, “The Phantom of the Opera?”

“Erik,” said the cowboy with a nod. “He went from being an opera house phantom to being a literal phantom.”

Vlad clicked his fangs together in annoyance and continued to glare at Dorian.

“That still doesn't tell us who you are,” Jekyll said.

“Page two hundred and fifty six,” recited Not-Erik. “Starting from the middle of the page. From the line ' _they were only just in time._ ”

Jekyll opened the book, which seemed to fall open naturally to the correct page, and found the passage. He read, “A shade, this time carrying no light, just a shade in the shade, passed. It passed close to them, near enough to touch them.

“They felt the warmth of its cloak upon them. For they could distinguish the shade sufficiently to see that it wore a cloak which shrouded it from head to foot. On its head it had a soft felt hat...”

Jekyll glanced up from the page. “You?” he asked.

“The one an' only,” said Not-Erik's with pride.

Jekyll continued to peruse the passage and eventually nudged Victor in the ribs. He passed him the book, pointing out a footnote the author had added at the bottom of the page. Victor read the message silently.

 

_“Like the Persian, I can give no further explanation touching the apparition of this shade... I can not give the reader expressly to understand what the Persian meant by the words, “It is someone much worse than that!” The reader must try to guess for himself, for I promised the former manager of the Opera to keep his secret regarding the extremely interesting and useful personality of the wandering, cloaked shade... Upon my word of honor, I can say no more.”_

 

It was an extremely odd footnote, and one that Victor found incredibly vexing in how it provided no further clue as to who or what this man, this “shade,” really was. He was nearly as upset as The Man Who Was Not Erik himself, who was busy complaining about his lack of presence in the story as Victor read.

“Only two pages! Two measly pages, and I'm not even mentioned by name,” he said, “Let's just forget about the fact that I'm basically Erik's arch-nemesis, sure. That's not a story worth writing about, I reckon!”

“His arch-nemesis? In what way?” asked Vlad.

Not-Erik grinned at them, revealing a row of straight, white teeth under his bristly mustache. “I'm the exorcist. I'm the guy the opera managers hired all those years ago to take care of their own hauntin'. They had heard about me from some other work I did 'round them parts, and wanted me to expel the phantom from their opera. But there was one problem. Erik wasn't dead yet.

“I tried to tell them there weren't nothin' I could do about a living phantom, but they wouldn't take no fer an answer. So's they kept me on retainer as a sort of security guard. Keep things quiet backstage an' the like.

“That went well fer awhile, till Erik really went off his rocker. Bodies started piling up. A poor little soprano was kidnapped, her fiance attacked... But still, there weren't nothin' I could do ter stop it....

“Until Erik took his own life. Happened soon after the little soprano ran off ter marry that count. Anyway, I finally had a job ter do. Souls don't always go quietly into that dark night, if you catch my meanin', and I knew Erik was gonna put up a hell of a fight. I guess he changed his mind about wantin' to be dead as soon as it was over, because he vamoosed before I could catch him. I've been chasin' him ever since. Trail went cold for years, but now I've tracked him here. And this time I mean to make good on my promise to exorcise him.”

Victor stared at the cover of the book as the Shade finished his tale. It was a simple design, featuring only a rose and the mask of the notorious phantom. He knew the story, of course. He thought he might even have taken Beth to a performance of the musical in London several years ago. Like the rest of their stories, he had considered it to be a work of fiction. But looking up at the Shade now, he did not doubt his story.

“Why tell us all of this now?” he asked. “Why did you wait until the mummy... Until Parmes had been resurrected?”

The Shade chuckled, “I thought if I showed up sooner, then Erik would hightail it out of here, and I'd be chasin' him 'round the globe again. That's why I hired Vinny, here. Figured if I had someone on the inside to keep an eye on things fer me, I could plan my exorcism without spookin' the spook.”

“But you're here now. What changed?” Vlad asked.

“Well he's got his brain, don't he?” The Shade said, gesturing toward Parmes. “Erik's not just gonna hoof it when his last chance of resurrection is sitting here in this room, is he? Don't matter to him if I showed up or not. He's right pissed at you all now. And I reckon he won't go till either he's got a body, or he's had his revenge.”

“You told Vinny to put a stop to it,” Victor stated simply. “You told him he couldn't allow me to continue my work, and so Beth was...”

He couldn't finish the sentence. It wasn't that he still mourned for Beth. She was a machine. He had built her with his own hands. But he did not know if she could be repaired, and the prospect of creating as effective an assistant from scratch was overwhelming. When Victor thought of Beth, her body broken and lifeless, he imagined himself at some point in the future, unable to maintain his own pieced together body, falling apart at the seams...

The Shade looked at him with pity, but not remorse. As a man who dealt in human souls, he didn't seem to lament the loss of a machine.

“I thought that if Erik had a chance to inhabit an immortal body, there'd be no chance of exorcising him. I weren't countin' on the soul of the original owner residin' in the body after the brain had been removed. But I guess that just goes to show, life's full of surprises.”

“So what do we do know?” Jekyll said. He sounded testy, and he was eyeing the Shade with open dislike. Victor thought he knew what Jekyll was thinking. If it hadn't been for the Shade and Vinny, Hyde – and by extension Jekyll – never would have been involved in Y's scheme.

“I want to help you,” said the Shade. “And to do that I need to capture Erik's spirit. He's too powerful to exorcise if he's not contained. But once he's caught, his hold over this place will disappear, and you all can go free.”

It was a familiar line. _Do this impossible task for me, and I'll let you go._ It was the same offer Y had given them in the beginning, but at least the Shade was being more upfront about it. And this time, he was not the one keeping them hostage. Instead, he was offering them an opportunity to get their revenge.

Vlad was the first to speak once the Shade had finished his proposal. “How exactly do you plan to trap Erik?”

The Shade reached into another pocket of his long overcoat and drew out a large object; which was odd, because it seemed far too large to have fit inside the relatively small pocket to begin with, and there had been no sign he had been hiding it within his coat. Victor wondered how deep those pockets really went as the Shade tossed the object to Vlad.

It looked like it would be heavy, but the vampire caught it easily and looked at the device. Victor could see that it was an ornate box, its paint faded with age. Sitting atop was a figure of a monkey holding a pair of cymbals.

“A music box?” Vlad asked, observing a wind-up key on the side.

“From the catacombs of the Opera,” said the Shade, “It belonged to Erik, when he was alive. I believe it had sentimental value. Spirits usually haunt a partic'lar location. The place where they lived, or worked, or died... For Erik, the Opera was all three. But he has been apart from it fer too long, which makes his soul unstable. If the spirit is put under too much stress, it should flee into the closest familiar object.”

“You plan to trap him in this?” asked Vlad.

“Fine,” said Dorian. It was the first time he had said anything since the Shade's arrival, and his sudden input surprised them all. “And how to you propose to put _Erik_ under so much stress that he's forced into that thing?”

The Shade grinned again, looked at Vinny, and gave him a wink.

“I was thinkin' Plan B.”

Vinny looked confused, then alarmed. “I was kidding!” he protested.

“Why? I thought it was an ingenious plan.”

Victor didn't understand what they were talking about, but any plan that made Vinny look so horrified sounded like a very, very bad idea.

 


	29. The Haunting of Henry Jekyll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Erik begins to express his dissatisfaction.

Jekyll couldn't sleep. After the night he spent witnessing the resurrection of the mummy and the revelations which came with the appearance of the Shade, it was no wonder he couldn't sleep soundly. They had talked throughout the night, trying to get more information out of the Man Who Was Not Erik. But the Shade had been cagey about sharing any more information concerning his “Plan B.” He claimed that secrecy was necessary, as it was almost certain that Erik was privy to their conversation. Jekyll understood the sense behind his argument, but that didn't prevent it from being frustrating.

Things continued in this way until Vlad observed that the sun was nearly risen, and that he would be forced to retire for the duration of the day. His announcement alerted the others to their own fatigue, and after freeing William from his cell beneath the castle, they broke for bed.

Jekyll was exhausted in both body and mind, but his thoughts continued to whirl ceaselessly through conversation from that evening. His brain kept him awake with processing all the new information, and sudden new anxieties provoked him just as he was on the verge of falling asleep. When he did manage to drift off, he was disturbed by nightmares which hovered at the edge of consciousness, memories of them disappearing as he woke but leaving him with a feeling of dread.

When he heard the groan of a floorboard outside his chamber door, he thought for a moment it was the product of one of these dreams. But then the door gave a low creak as it swung open on old hinges, and he knew that someone had entered his room. His back was to the door, his eyes still shut. He couldn't hear no footsteps and wondered who could be standing in his doorway, watching him sleep. He thought of William first, and then the Shade, wondering if the strange man were making rounds to check on all of them. Then he felt a depression of the mattress near his feet.

Something had crawled into bed with him.

Jekyll rolled over, and his anxieties exploded into full-blown panic as he stared into the blank, glassy eyes of Beth. Her face rested only a few inches from his, repulsive in its likeness to a real corpse. He could still see the internal wiring through the horrid gash on her throat. His mouth dropped open in a silent scream as he watched her eyes widen. She lifted one of her arms slowly toward him, but he recoiled from her touch, nearly falling off the bed as he did so. Her face twisted its features into a mask of pure hatred, and she pointed an accusing finger at him.

“ _Murderer..._ ”

Her voice was garbled and full of strange vibrations, as if she were speaking to him underwater, but he could understand the word clearly. She repeated it again, louder this time, so that she was nearly shrieking as she pointed at him.

“ _Murderer!_ ”

Jekyll screamed as he tumbled from the bed. and pushed himself across the floor. He pushed himself across the floor until he backed into the wall and could go no further. He cowered in the face of Beth's anger as she crawled across the bed toward him, reaching both arms out as if to claw him with her glass-like fingernails. She continued to screech at him, the mechanical tones harsher than her voice had ever been in life.

“ _You killed me! You killed me! You will kill again!_ ”

Her body fell grotesquely to the floor, the limbs twisted in unnatural ways, but still she continued to claw her way slowly toward him, still hissing threats and accusations.

“ _You will kill again... You will kill us all!_ ”

Jekyll couldn't move from fear. He huddled against the wall, unable to do anything but sob as he watched Beth draw nearer.

“No, please! I didn't mean to kill you! Please, keep away!” he moaned, raising his hands to his face but unwilling to raise them against this avenging fiend before him.

“Dr. Jekyll! Are you alright?”

Beth's curses ceased abruptly, and in their place he heard the familiar voice of William. He glanced between the fingers covering his eyes and saw William in the doorway. Victor and the others, including the Shade, loitered in the hall just behind him. Jekyll's screams had drawn everyone in the house but Vlad, who was still locked away in the cellar for the duration of the day.

“My God...” William said as he stepped farther into the room and noticed the now motionless body of Beth laying a few feet from Jekyll. “What is she doing here?”

Another sob escaped Jekyll's lips, and William tore his gaze from Beth at the sound of his distress. He stepped over Beth's body and came to Jekyll's aid, wrapping his arms around his shaking shoulders and helping him to his feet.

As William helped him back to the bed, Victor and the Shade stepped into the room, closely followed by Parmes. Dorian and Vinny lingered in the doorway, as if afraid to come in farther.

Victor halted his progress at the sight of Beth's broken form. His expression did not change, but Jekyll found himself choking out an explanation to him.

“She c-came for me...” he wheezed, still fighting back tears, “C-Called me a m-m-murderer! God, I thought it was a nightmare! If you hadn't come...”

He couldn't continue. Victor turned to the Shade, his expression still blank, and asked, “How did this happen?”

The Shade was observing Jekyll's symptoms with sympathy, but in the detached way of a man who has seen tragedy many times. “Possession is just one of the many tricks used by spirits durin' a hauntin',” he said, “Erik must have taken advantage of the body you created to torment Henry, here.”

Parmes was kneeling on the floor near Beth. He alone appeared unafraid to be near her. He brushed some hair away that had fallen over her face, and noticed the wound on her neck. He looked at Victor in surprise.

“This woman is not human,” he said.

“No,” explained William, “Victor made her.”

Parmes looked amazed, and turned his attention back to an inspection of the broken machine.

“But why?” Victor asked, “What's the point of this?”

“He's pissed, remember? He'll be lookin' to spook the lot of you, I reckon. He's lookin' fer weaknesses, things he can exploit 'boutcha while he forms his next step. I'd be wary if I was y'all.”

“And what about your plan?” Dorian said icily. He was still hanging back by the door-frame. “How much longer do we have to wait before we see that come to fruition?”

But the Shade remained tight-lipped about the details of his plan. Jekyll was still too shaken by his experience to care.

Victor decided that they should take Beth back down to the lab. He thought it doubtful that Erik would attempt the same tactic twice, and wanted Beth returned to a position of respectful repose. He enlisted the service of Vinny to help carry her, who gave an encouraging smile to Jekyll on his way out the door.

“On the positive, Doc, at least she scared the Hyde out of you.”

Jekyll had no idea what he was talking about until he was left with only William and Parmes. He glimpsed his own reflection in the mirror on the opposite wall, and felt somewhat better to see his own familiar face staring back at him.

“Thank God for that,” he whispered, his voice regaining some of his usual tenor, “I was starting to think I'd never change back.”

“You look different now,” said Parmes. Although William was seated on the bed at Jekyll's side, Parmes sat on the ground, one knee pulled up to his chest. He alone was at ease, and Jekyll envied him.

He did not know how to respond to Parmes' observation. He was still too shaken from the incident with Beth. He was thankful that William stayed with him. The boy sat by his side and rubbed Jekyll's back consolingly while assuming the responsibility of answering Parmes.

“That's his quirk” William said, “Sometimes he looks and acts like a different person. We call the other Hyde, but this is Jekyll.”

Jekyll turned his head slightly to the side to smile ironically at William. “Quirk?” he asked.

William grimaced apologetically, “It was the only thing I could think of to explain everything to him. I said we all have one.”

“Really? Well go on then, Parmes. Tell us what William's been teaching you.”

“William turns into a wolf, Vlad drinks blood and cannot abide sunlight, and Vinny can disappear,” Parmes listed, ticking the members of their household off on his fingers. “Then there is the man named Erik, also called Mr. Y. He is dead. And he tried to steal my body.”

“You certainly have a firm grasp of the situation,” Jekyll remarked, feeling nearly himself again. The conversation with Parmes seemed to be helping.

“But I forget Dorian,” Parmes said with a frown, “His quirk is that he is... uncomfortably handsome?”

Jekyll and William burst out laughing. Parmes was alarmed, clearly thinking he had made some rude mistake. William had to wipe tears from the corner of his eyes as he said, “Well. You're not wrong.”

“He doesn't change,” Jekyll said, finding the right words to describe Dorian succinctly, “He doesn't age, and he cannot die.”

Once again, Parmes showed no signs of being particularly impressed by this knowledge. He merely asked, “And how does he do that?”

“Well, by means of a painting he has of himself. It changes while he does not,” Jekyll summarized. He did not know what he would say if Parmes asked him how the painting worked, as he hadn't the slightest idea, but luckily Parmes settled for nodding his head.

“I still do not understand Victor's quirk” he said next. He was looking at William expectantly, an eager student to his teacher.

“Well, he's... He's a doctor who...” William faltered, unable to explain Victor's unusual history in terms that could be easily understood by a centuries old reanimated Egyptian.

Jekyll interjected, “He brought you back to life. That's his trait. He can bring the dead back to life.”

This information affected Parmes more than any others had. He was thunderstruck. Jekyll watched his expression change to one of awe as he lifted his hand to his head. It was an unconscious gesture, showing that he was thinking about what he had been told concerning his new brain.

“He made me?” he repeated, amazed.

“He's a doctor,” William said, “And he's done it before with someone else.”

Parmes lowered his hand to his side and lifted his gaze to William and Jekyll once again. Jekyll was surprised to see that his eyes were shiny with tears.

“It is a powerful gift,” he said seriously, “It is one thing to prolong life. It is quite another to bring someone back once they are gone.”

“They don't always come back like you did,” William said, “The first time he tried, the man he made was... wrong. I don't think Victor sees it as a gift.”

“How does he do it?” Parmes asked.

Jekyll was afraid he would. Victor's methods were shrouded in secrecy. Jekyll had assisted Victor in the lab with the mummy, but Victor had said a number of times that Parmes own ability to regenerate changed the processes he would normally have used. There were even crucial times when Victor banished the others from the lab entirely, so that they might not see some secretive part of his work.

Unable to provide a complete explanation, Jekyll merely stated, “I believe it involves some form of electricity.”

Parmes appeared to accept this answer for the present. He leaned back on his hands and tilted his head toward the ceiling, lost in thought for a few moments. When he did speak again, it was to ask another question about Victor.

“He holds the secret to life and death. Is he immortal, as well?”

Jekyll and William exchanged a look. Victor had implied that his long-life was conditional on constant maintenance. One that he could not sustain without an assistant like Beth to perform the procedure. They told as much to Parmes, in simple terms.

“And you, Jekyll. Can you die?” Parmes asked suddenly.

It was an usual question, and it caught him off guard. He wasn't sure how to respond, and not knowing the answer to what should be a simple question was unsettling to him. He was aware that William was watching him, waiting to see what he would say.

“I don't know,” he said. And it was the truth, “I've lived longer than a man is supposed to. Maybe I'll live forever.”

“Was it a potion?”

Again, Jekyll was stunned by the question. Then he realized that William must have told him this part of his history, and he nodded his head. “It wasn't supposed to make me live longer. It was just supposed to turn me into another man. A freer man, I'd hoped. But it made me a monster instead.”

Parmes stare was uncanny. It was open and unembarrassed. Jekyll resisted the urge to look away and stared back at him, wondering what it was that he saw.

“You don't look like a monster to me,” he said without a hint of irony, “But I like the look of this you better than the other.”

“Thank you,” Jekyll said faintly.

“You are welcome,” Parmes replied. He stood up from the floor and stretched his arms above his head. He said nothing for a few moments as he rolled his shoulders and did a few stretches, apparently working out a few kinks in his new and improved body. William offered a few helpful suggestions to him, but otherwise sat quietly by Jekyll's side. He had finished with rubbing Jekyll's back, but it was nice to have the companionship.

“It was a potion that made me this way, too,” Parmes suddenly said, slapping his own chest for emphasis. “I do not think your Victor could have brought me back from the dead if I had not taken the potion. You would be talking to Erik now instead of me.”

“You mean to say your regeneration was caused by a potion?” Jekyll asked.

“Regeneration?” Parmes said, sounding out the word slowly and casting an appealing look toward William.

“When you were dead, the cuts Victor made on you healed themselves,” William explained, “And... well, your heart was still beating.”

Parmes looked just as astonished by this news as they had been when they first discovered it, but he nodded his head in acknowledgment, “Yes, that was because of the potion. I think that perhaps I was never really dead to begin with. The potion was meant to make me live forever.”

“Well, I'm sorry you had to come back in the middle of all this,” Jekyll said, waving his hand to indicate the entirety of the castle and it's inhabitants.

“Are you? I'm not,” said Parmes. “I am happy to be alive. But I do feel bad for Erik.”

Jekyll found this incomprehensible, and it must have shown on his face, because Parmes smiled at him and said, “William tells me that he has made you all very unhappy.”

“That's putting it mildly.”

“I do not think that what he is doing is right, but I think I know how he feels. He made a mistake, and he wants a chance to live again. We are so similar...”

Parmes got quiet for a moment, lost in his own thoughts as well as memories from a life he never lived. When he snapped back to the present, he had a smile on his face.

“I want to thank Victor for what he has done. He has given me life again, and that is an amazing thing.”

“His room is on this floor,” William said. Jekyll thought for a moment that the boy would leave him and show Parmes the way, but he only gave the Egyptian some directions and remained with Jekyll once Parmes had gone.

Jekyll was grateful to him for the company. Without Parmes' conversation, his mind drifted to the look on Beth's face as she screamed at him. He knew that it was only one of Erik's tricks, but it had still been frightening. He wondered if William was thinking about it too as they sat in companionable silence, but when William spoke, it was to show his mind had been elsewhere.

“It really is nice to see you again. I mean looking like this,” he said.

Jekyll gave a dry laugh, “Oh? Am I handsomer this way?”

William laughed too, “It's not that... It's just... I knew that it was you, not Hyde. But when you look like him and act like yourself, it's just a bit...”

“Unsettling?” supplied Jekyll. William gave him a sad smile and nodded.

“I understand. It bothers me too, when it happens. But I feel better now. I do,” he insisted when William eyed him skeptically, “Only... I think after what's happened I don't feel much like sleeping anymore.”

“You can come downstairs with me,” William suggested, “I've got plenty of daylight to kill before it's back to the cellar.”

“It's the last night, isn't it?”

“For this month, yes.”

“Well, let's go,” Jekyll said, rising from the bed, “Though I don't know how entertaining I'll be as company.”

“Don't worry about it. Maybe Vlad's got a board game or something hidden around here.”

  
“Ah yes,” Jekyll said allowing William to lead the way out the door, “Perhaps we'll find a Ouija board. I'd like to summon Erik and give him a piece of my mind.”

 


	30. The Haunting of Victor Frankenstein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Victor becomes the Phantom's next victim, and Parmes comes to save the day.

They placed Beth's body on one of the long tables in the makeshift lab. Victor positioned her arms over her abdomen in a semblance of repose, noting with a shadow of remorse that a few of her nails were broken. It must have happened when the Phantom used her body to crawl up the stairs to Jekyll's room. He allowed the thought to pass from his mind and noticed that her eyes were still open. He lightly pushed the eyelids closed, then picked up a discarded sheet from the floor and covered her body again.

Vinny was still there. He hadn't said a word as he helped Victor carry Beth down the stairs. It might have been uncharacteristic of him, except that he had been less chatty after his brief captivity before the Shade's arrival. Even now he still carried the large knife, tucked unwisely into the waistband of his trousers. Victor assumed it was insurance against further attempts at violence against him.

Victor hadn't taken part in those beatings. It was Vlad who had used Vinny as a punching bag to vent his pent-up aggression. Victor had merely stood by and let it happen. True, Vinny and Hyde had been working together, and it was Hyde that destroyed Beth. But Victor didn't want revenge. He didn't care what happened to Vinny either way. He continued to muse silently over the still form of his former robot wife, alone with Vinny but finding it very easy to ignore him. He could almost forget that he was even there. Or he would have, if Vinny hadn't started talking.

“Hey, Victor. Are you alright?”

“I'm fine,” he replied automatically.

“Are you sure? Because you don't seem fine. You haven't seemed fine for awhile actually.”

“We've been trapped here for weeks, living on a nocturnal schedule due to the resident vampire, there's no food, and I've recently performed a very difficult operation. Do you expect me to look well rested?”

To his annoyance, Vinny actually grinned at him. “See, that's better. You seem less depressed when you're sassy.”

“Is there a point to this conversation?”

Vinny hesitated. For once a snarky comeback was not ready on his lips. Or perhaps he was carefully considering how to respond. When he did speak, he sounded uncharacteristically earnest.

“Listen, Vic. I know it must seem like I'm your enemy, but I'm not. I'm one of the good guys, y'know? I just want to help. I want to get us all out of here, same as you.”

“That's a nice sentiment,” Victor said emotionlessly. He could hear the detachment in his own voice, and a part of him understood why Vinny of all people was reaching out to him now.

“Come on, Vic. Look at me?”  
He did. Vinny stared at him with obvious concern. He seemed to be waiting for Victor to say something, but Victor didn't understand what Vinny expected of him. Hadn't he already done everything he was supposed to do? He'd brought the mummy back. And he did it on his own. He'd done his job, and they were still trapped in this godforsaken castle, subject to the whim of a vengeful ghost. There didn't seem to be anything he could do except wait for the Man Who Was Not Erik to fulfill his plan. Victor wanted nothing to do with it.

“I'm going to try to get some sleep,” he said after allowing the silence to drag on for several long moments, “ I suggest you do the same. Your boss may want to move forward with his plan once Vlad is awake.”

He didn't wait for Vinny to respond. He wanted to be out of that room as quickly as possible. Away from everyone else. He sought the chamber that had been his bedroom since the first night, the room he had once shared with Beth, and shut the door firmly behind him.

He stayed there, leaning against the door and thinking about the conversation with Vinny. Why had he called Victor out like that? Did he really seem so pathetic that someone like Vinny felt like giving him a counseling session? Or maybe it was something more sinister than that. Perhaps Vinny's offer of friendship was part of his employer's plan to win Victor's trust and use him they way the Phantom had used him.

Well, that was never going to work. Victor's trust in Vinny stretched about as far as his ability to see him. And since Vinny was just as likely to be visible as invisible, that trust did not extend very far. Victor had suspected Vinny from the very beginning. Anyone who would willingly turn themselves invisible must have dishonest intentions. Though Mr. Y turned out to be the Phantom, that didn't change the fact that Vinny had been deceiving them all. Victor's dislike for Vinny now ran much deeper than whatever involvement he might have had in Beth's destruction.

Victor realized he was sweating. He felt like he couldn't breathe property. With shaking hands, he unbuttoned the top of his dress shirt, now dirty and discolored from repeated wear. When that failed to make him feel less confined, he pulled the entire shirt over his head and threw it to the floor.

He still felt shaky, and possibly ill. He went into the adjoining bathroom, thinking a drink of cool water would help him steady his nerves. He bent low over the copper sink, first scooping a few mouthfuls of water into his hand, then twisting his head to drink directly from the fount. He then splashed his face a few times with the freezing water. He pushed a few damp blond curls from his face and looked at his reflection in the antique mirror above the sink.

He had to bite back a scream. The monster – his monster – was staring right back at him. He recognized the pallid grey flesh, the crisscrossing network of thick scars, the bloodshot yellow eyes... Only after Victor had overcome the sudden shock did he realize that it was not this was not the face of his monster, after all. The hair was neither short nor black, and the features were too small. It was his own face starting back at him with hateful eyes, only horribly disfigured. The monster within finally exposing himself without.

Victor fought back rising panic and gripped the edges of the sink tighter. He realized on some logical level that this was only an illusion, some other trick of the Phantom to torment him the same way he tormented Dr. Jekyll.

“Why are you doing this?” Victor rasped, unsurprised to see that the lips of his reflection remained still, “What purpose does it serve?”

His reflection continued to stare at him dispassionately. Its grotesque features only seemed to grow more hideous the longer Victor stared. He wanted to look away, but he found himself transfixed.

“I did everything you wanted of me. I brought the body back to life. I put your brain in it. Am I to be blamed for your failure?”

Still the reflection was silent. The only change was the expression of contempt deepening around the mouth. His monstrous self was judging him, condemning him.

“Speak, damn you!” Victor demanded, “Tell me why you are doing this to me! You want a body, don't you? A proper body... I can make you one. I can make you a body, a perfect body, and then you can possess it like you did Beth, only this one won't be broken...”

“You offer me a metal body?” said his reflection. It spoke in French, using his voice. Victor immediately regretted trying to talk to this apparition. He did not like to hear his own voice coming from a hideous distortion of his face.

“ _Oui_...” Victor said, slipping into the use of French as well.

“ _A metal body_....” the Phantom repeated, spitting out the words disdainfully. “One that can see and hear but cannot smell... cannot taste.... cannot feel? I do not want a metal body, Frankenstein.”

Victor lessened his hold on the copper sink, pulling himself away from the reflection as if preparing for a blow.

“Then I cannot help you,” he said.

“Oh yes. You can. You can build me a body. But not of metal. You will build me a new body of flesh and bone. Only you can do this.”

“No... You don't understand what you are asking me to do.”

“I understand perfectly. You did it for the mummy, and now you will do the same for me.”

“That was different. He had a body. I cannot make one from scratch!”

“You have done it before!”

“And I created a monster!” Victor screamed, pointing an accusing finger at his own reflection, “A human being without a soul!”

“This will be different,” continued the Phantom, his voice changing tenor. It sounded less like Victor's voice now as it took on a fervent tone, “It will be my soul that inhabits the body. There will be no one else to interfere this time...”

“I won't do it,” Victor said, backing away from the mirror.

His reflection watched him, its expression darkening again.

“You will do it... You will make me a new body or you will stay here with the others. I have the power to trap you here forever if I wish! First the boys will die of starvation, and the rest of you will feast on their corpses in desperation. Then you will tear each other apart for something to eat. Do you think Dorian has any qualms about killing you? Does the vampire? And perhaps you will be killed, or perhaps you will live long enough to watch as your body fails and your flesh begins to rot off your bones!”

As the apparition spoke, Victor watched with horror as his reflection began to decay. The Phantom's threat seemed to be coming true right before his very eyes as the skin darkened and began to peel away at the seams, exposing muscle and bone beneath. The jaw continued to move up and down in time with the voice even as the tongue lolled out past shrunken lips and eventually rotted away. The eyes protruded outward as the lids receded into nothingness, then they too dissolved into streams of fluid which poured over the hollow cheekbones.

Victor could only whimper in the face of his own mortality. He couldn't tear his eyes away form the gruesome sight. His terror had him so paralyzed that he did not realize someone had entered the bedroom.

“Victor?” Parmes asked, spotting Victor through the open door of the bathroom. He walked toward him, took one look at the mirror on the wall and rushed toward it, blocking the image from Victor's view. Gripping the edges of the mirror with both hands, he lifted it from the wall and hurled it into the corner, shattering the glass into thousands of glittering pieces.

Victor couldn't remember at what point he had sunk to the floor, but he was crouched on the ground, staring at a few sharp fragments of glass that had skittered across the floor to him.

“That's seven years of bad luck...” he muttered, still speaking in French.

To his surprise, Parmes responded to him with a perfect Parisian accent, “Is it? Well, I am going to live forever. What's seven years to me?”

Victor looked up at him with wild eyes, still recovering from the shock of seeing his own face rot away. Parmes looked back at him with pity.

“Come on, let's get you out of here.”

Parmes helped Victor to his feet and gingerly guided him back into the bedroom. He placed Victor on the edge of the bed, but sat himself on the floor at Victor's feet, gazing up an unreadable expression. He thought Parmes would speak right away - ask him about what had just happened - but Parmes was silent. He seemed to be waiting for Victor to speak first, in his own time.

But Victor did not know what to say. He did not know how much Parmes understood of what was happening, or how much the others might have told him about Victor's history. It seemed too overwhelming to try to explain everything now. So Victor merely stared back at Parmes, carefully keeping his expression as blank as the Egyptian's, observing his creation in silence.

It was Parmes who spoke first.

“She is beautiful, the woman you built.”

Victor was unprepared for this. He expected Parmes to ask about the mirror, or who the Phantom was, or why he had trapped them all here. He was not expecting Parmes to mention Beth. Out of reflex more than anything, he thanked Parmes for the compliment.

“Someone tells me she was your wife?”

“Yes... I designed her after someone I was married to,” Victor said. He hardly knew what induced him to tell this to Parmes. He had never mentioned it to anyone else.

“And where is she now? This woman you were married to?”

Victor paused, but only for a fraction of a second. “Dead... She died a long time ago. It was my fault.”

Parmes' eyes softened. “Remarkable...” he said quietly.

“What's remarkable?”

“You are. You have suffered loss, and blame yourself. And yet you built something truly wonderful out of your grief. Tell me, Victor, did you never think of killing yourself?”

The question was so sudden and unexpected that it nearly took Victor's breath away. He stared at Parmes, but could see no sign of maliciousness in his expression.

“That's a very strange question to ask someone,” he breathed.

Parmes seemed to sense that he had committed a blunder. He gazed up at Victor with genuine regret, “I'm sorry. Forgive me... Of course you don't understand why I... Let me begin again.”

Parmes closed his eyes, apparently lost in thought. Or perhaps he was considering what to say next. Either way, he had Victor's full attention. With eyes still closed, he began to speak again.

“I am starting to remember more about my past. It has been difficult, because the more I remember about myself the more I remember about Erik, as well. I can see these memories quite clearly, though I know that they are not mine. And I have learned something about Erik and I. We have something in common.”

Parmes opened his eyes and smiled sadly at Victor, “I have lost someone, too. A woman I loved very much, though she was to marry a friend of mine. I did not resent them for it, because he was to give her the same potion he shared with me. She was going to live forever, and the three of us would be together for eternity. But before he could prepare a draught of the elixir for her, she caught a plague. Illness was common among our people then. She was dead before we could save her.

“I blamed my friend. I believed that he had been too cautious about sharing the potion. If he had acted sooner, she would still be alive. You see, we could prolong life indefinitely, but we were not like you. We could not bring someone back from the dead.

“I developed another potion in secret. A poison deadly enough to counter the effects of my friend's potion, or so I believed. My intention was to follow Atma into the afterlife, and leave my cautious friend to suffer immortality alone...

“You see the effects of that experiment before you. You yourself brought me back from the dead. But Erik's story turned out differently. He also took his life because of a woman. Only Christine did not die. She left him to marry another man. He killed himself in his despair.

“We have all lost the women we loved. Erik and I took our own lives. But you did not. You rose above your grief and created something beautiful. And you saved me.”

Parmes smiled so warmly at Victor that it was obvious he no longer wished for death. He was only thankful for a second chance at life. Rather than comfort Victor, it made him feel more guilty. He felt like he had to dissuade Parmes' opinion of him as a morally superior genius, lest he form an inaccurate picture of what Victor really was – a coward.

“I thought about it,” Victor admitted, “When my first creation was murdering my family and friends... After he killed my wife. I thought about killing myself to end it all.”

Parmes expression softened again, but it was obvious that he did not resent Victor for his admission. “What stopped you?” he asked instead.

“Fear. I was afraid. I still am afraid. I don't want to die,” Victor said. He felt a knot forming in his throat and stopped speaking before it could escape as a sob.

Parmes raised himself up on his knees and gripped Victor's hands in his own. “It is not wrong to fear death. It is what prompted Sosra and I to create an elixir of life. It is why I am here now, to thank you for what you have done for me. If you had died, where would I be now?”

Victor clasped Parmes hands tighter, grateful for the first human contact he had in perhaps over a century.

“He wants a body for himself,” Victor said, “The Phantom... He wants me to make it for him. Do you think I should?”

He looked up at Parmes and saw his eyes harden. He almost pulled away from his grasp, afraid that Parmes' cold expression was directed at him, but Parmes next words assured Victor that he only had the Phantom on his mind.

“We have all three lost the women we loved, but that is as far as our similarities go. I harmed no one but myself when I took my own life. Erik hurt many people in his pursuit of Christine. He is a murderer, and I do not think that he will improve if he were to live again. I know this, because I have his brain. I share his memories, and know how he thinks.”

“So I'm right to refuse him? Even if it means we'll be trapped here?”

“This man you all call Shade, he has a plan doesn't he?”

“It might not work...”

They sat quietly together, each thinking his own thoughts. Or in Parmes' case, perhaps he was reliving some of the Phantom's thoughts. Victor was still worried about what would become of them next, but he felt calm. For the first time in days he felt connected to what was happening around him, like he was a participant in his life rather than a helpless observer. He wondered if he had Parmes to thank for his newfound strength, or if the shock of speaking to the Phantom had finally tipped him over the breaking point to a place where he could begin to feel normal again.

Parmes was the first to speak again, gently drawing Victor out of his own reverie by massaging the backs of Victor's hands with his thumbs. “I wonder...” he said, “I have been told that my organs were removed for my burial...”

“Yes, you were embalmed,” Victor said, encouraging Parmes to continue.

“Did they place me in... I'm not sure how to describe it. Coffin does not seem to be the right word... A box for burial?”

“Sarcophagus,” Victor said, “It's what we call the kind of casket you were buried in.”

Parmes smiled and sounded out the word for himself, “Ssar-koff-a-guss... You all have such funny words for things. May I see it?”

“You want to see your sarcophagus?”

“If you have it. Yes, I would like to see it.”

“Alright...” Victor said, having no reason to refuse Parmes this favor and curious to see where it would lead, “I can show it to you.”

He allowed Parmes to pull him to his feet, then he lead the way out of his room and down the hall. He proceeded to the first floor near the entrance to the cellar. The tapestry that once concealed the door had been pulled back, and the heavy clay casket rested on the floor near the entrance. Vlad's coffin was missing. No doubt he had dragged it back down the cellar with him to sleep through the day.

Victor watched as Parmes approached the sarcophagus slowly. He wondered what the Egyptian thought as he gazed down at the sculpted image of his own face molded into the clay. Parmes ran his hands over the face, down the sides of the figure, and began to trace a few of the hieroglyphs etched into the sides. He seemed to be reading them, a smile on his lips, until he reached an image of a man with the head of a long-beaked bird.

“Thoth,” he said, tapping the image with his finger. He looked up at Victor and explained, “I served this god as one of his priests. That must be why they buried me with honor. Not everyone was buried in this way, you know.”

Victor nodded, somewhat eager to see what Parmes would say next. Perhaps there was a message concealed in the heiroglyphs. Something Parmes would be able to understand that no one else could. To his surprise, Parmes began industriously chipping away at the clay with his fingernails, breaking off the head of Thoth.

“What are you doing?” he blurted.

“To prevent grave-robbers, the possessions of the dead were sometimes concealed within the clay,” said Parmes, still chipping away at the brittle stone, “If they bothered to embalm me, I wonder if they also buried my...”

He interrupted himself with a soft exclamation of triumph. Something had broken free of the stone where it was hidden behind the head of Thoth. Parmes blew the fragments of clay and dust away and held it up for Victor to see.

It was ring. The thick gold band was twisted in an intricate design that seemed impossible for ancient Egyptians to have created. As Victor stared, the light caught a pale gem set into the metal, and it glittered brilliantly.

“What is it?” Victor asked.

“It's a ring.”

“I can see that. I mean, what is its significance to you?”

But Parmes did not answer him. He merely smiled, not at Victor but at the floor, perhaps thinking of a memory. He slipped the ring onto the third finger of his right hand, where it fit him perfectly.

“Parmes?”

The Egyptian looked up at him, almost as if remembering he was there.

“I don't think you should sleep in that room,” he said, “It would be better if you found somewhere else to sleep.”

Victor marveled at this sudden change in topic, but decided not to force the issue. Perhaps the ring brought back painful memories. Victor, being an expert on that subject, knew when it was improper to intrude.

“What about you?” he asked instead, “Aren't you going to try to sleep?  
Parmes laughed. He looked at Victor and switched suddenly back to English, “I have been asleep for hundreds of years. I have no intention of sleeping now.”

 


	31. A Final Haunting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Phantom attempts to intimidate Vlad into compliance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had hoped to get this to you all by Christmas, but such is life. Please enjoy this mid-Hanukkah present instead. And since this is a short chapter, expect another update by New Year's Day. Happy reading.

He knew that night was approaching, because he was awake. It was one of the more useful abilities of a vampire, to instinctively know the moment of sunrise and sunset, though he had never been able to explain _how_ he knew.

He lifted his hand to gently push open the lid of his coffin. It was a sleek modern affair, with hinges that prevented the lid from slamming shut, or from spilling completely open. He liked this coffin. He was aware that other vampires preferred sleeping in beds like common humans, but he had always preferred a nice casket. He liked the closeness of the silk lined interior and they way one felt completely closed off from the chaos of the outside world. He sometimes thought that the quiet stillness of a coffin slumber was as close as he would ever get to experiencing death. And so, in his own way, Vlad rose from the dead each evening.

Outside of the coffin, he was confronted with darkness. He frowned, but it was not the absence of light that disturbed him. He had the layout of the cellar memorized, and he made his way to the corner table without incident. Striking a match, he lit a candle and glanced around the empty cellar. The boy should have been there already, but he was nowhere to be found.

Deciding not to think of it at the present moment, Vlad returned to his coffin, closed the lid, and easily picked it up in both arms. Its weight meant nothing to him, though the shape was awkward to maneuver up the stairs. He settled for resting it against the steps and pushing it up from the base. In no time at all, he had his coffin sitting side by side with the sarcophagus. He noted passively that someone had chipped away at the corner of the clay box, and wondered who might have done it.

The boy was still not there. Perhaps the moon had not yet risen, though surely it was past nightfall by now. Vlad found himself wishing he wore a watch, merely so he could make a show of checking it when the werewolf arrived.

He sat on the top of his coffin, waiting and wondering offhand about the sarcophagus. He was willing to bet Vinny was behind the random act of vandalism, although Dorian was another good guess.

When William finally appeared, he was in a hurry. He skittered into the hallway, his bare feet slipping on the smooth stone floor as he careened around the corner. He caught himself before smashing his face into the floor and continued to run, practically on all fours, down the hall toward Vlad.

“I know. I'm late. I'm sorry,” he said without preamble, rushing past Vlad and racing down the stairs into the cellar.

“It is no concern of mine,” Vlad said mildly, raising his brows at William's haste. He followed him back down the cellar, only vaguely interested in his frantic behavior.

“I was talking with Parmes,” William said by way of explanation, “He was telling me what he remembers about life in ancient Egypt, y'know? I guess I just lost track of time.”

Vlad hummed to show that he had heard William's statement, but his disinterest was an act. In truth, he was terribly curious to find out if there were any side effects from using his blood to resurrect the mummy. But if William had been talking with Parmes all day, then it was unlikely that he was experiencing any vampiric symptoms.

William glanced at him as he ripped his clothes off his body and tossed them irreverently toward Vlad, who caught them lazily with one hand.

“You seem calm,” was his comment, and Vlad could smell his fear. It made William nervous to see Vlad so at ease. Perhaps he thought it foretold danger.

“I am calm,” was Vlad's retort, though privately he enjoyed William's trepidation.

“Do you know something I don't?”

Vlad shrugged, “No, not really. I just think we'll be getting out of here soon.”

“What makes you say that?”

“It's what that man has promised us.”  
“You mean the Shade?” asked William, “What makes you think we can trust him? After everything that's happened?”

“I've seen his kind before. I am confident that he will succeed in his endeavor, and we will be freed as a result.”

“His kind? You mean an exorcist?”

“Are you sure this is the last night?” Vlad asked, abruptly changing the subject as William stripped down to his underwear.

William didn't appear to notice that Vlad hadn't answered his question. “Three nights a month, like clockwork. I'm sure this will be the last time.”

“So this will be my last chance to see you in your wolf pelt?”

William looked at Vlad in surprise. “That's a strange way of putting it... But yeah, I suppose. If you were planning on staying, that is... You're not staying, are you?”

Vlad shrugged again.

“It's too dangerous!”

“I didn't say I was staying,” said Vlad, absentmindedly folding William's clothes.

“Good,” said William, stripping off his underwear last. He threw it at Vlad's head, who dodged it easily. “Because I could kill you, you know.”

Vlad smirked. William looked the opposite of threatening, sitting naked on the floor of the dark cellar, shivering with cold. “It would be interesting to see you try.”

He turned away, setting the pile of clothes on the steps halfway up the staircase. He hesitated just before the door of the cellar. He could hear growling in the room behind him. William had cut it very close tonight, and his transformation was beginning. Curiosity won over, and Vlad proceeded back down the stairs at a measured pace.

William was already half-transformed by the time he reached the base of the steps. Vlad sat himself down on the bottom step and watched the boy writhe on the floor, snarling in agony as he attempted to resist the transformation. His flesh had already erupted into a thick coat of grey-brown fur.

Vlad was enjoying himself. The last time he had seen William transform, it had been spontaneous, triggered from a need to defend himself from the vampire's attack. Vlad hadn't been able to appreciate the various stages of the change. At the moment, William's nose and mouth were busy developing into a pointed snout. The hands that where scratching against the floor had already sprouted long claws. His spine elongated itself to form a thick, bushy tail.

It was over in a few minutes. The wolf shook its whole body, starting with the muzzle and shimmying all the way to the tip of the tail. It sat back on its haunches, tongue lolling to one side and panting heavily from the energy expended in the transformation. It turned its head, and noticed Vlad sitting only a few meters away.

“Hello,” Vlad said pleasantly, “Anything of the boy left in there?”

The wolf pulled back its lips, bared its teeth, and snarled.

“That could mean anything,” Vlad said, knowing how the boy hated him.

The wolf climbed to its feet slowly, turning its body to face Vlad. It continued to bare its teeth with menace, but Vlad felt perfectly at ease. He held his hands toward the wolf in a gesture of peace, and made soothing sounds.

“Easy, easy... I'm not going to hurt you.”

The wolf laid its ears back flat against its head, but it stopped growling. It white fangs disappeared as its lips relaxed, and he sniffed the air cautiously. It took a step forward, then another.

“That's it,” said Vlad, remaining perfectly still, “It's fine. Come here.”

The wolf stood directly in front of him now. Even on all fours, it towered above Vlad in his seated position. Vlad extended one of his hands with exaggerated slowness. The wolf shied away at first, but then drew closer, sniffing at him. It whined softly, then gave Vlad's hand a lick and pressed its face into his palm. Vlad smiled.

“There's a good boy,” he said fondly, daring to run both hands over the wolf's head and down its back, enjoying the thickness of the coat around the ruff at its neck. The wolf wagged its tail happily, pushing its face into Vlad's hands again, demanding more attention. Vlad laughed and caught the wolf's face in both hands, ruffling it ears.

“You stink,” he said, wrinkling his nose, but not really minding the thick canine smell. The wolf seemed to take this as a great compliment, which cemented Vlad's suspicion that William was entirely unconscious within the wolf. That was fine by him. His interest was not in the boy. He just liked dogs.

But it wouldn't do to sit with the werewolf all night. People might talk. Vlad tossed William's underwear into the corner, and the wolf chased it with excitement. Vlad laughed again as he raced up the stairs, thinking of what William would say the next morning when he discovered that he had torn apart his own underpants. He had the door closed and the sarcophagus pushed securely in front of it before the werewolf noticed his absence.

He sniffed surreptitiously at himself, sighing as he realized that he now reeked of wolf. If the others noticed, it might raise questions. He thought he had some extra shirts in one of the rooms upstairs, and began making his way toward the stairs in the front hall.

_“Dracula...”_

He froze when he heard his name. It had been faint, but he was sure he had heard it.

“William?” he asked, but of course that wasn't possible. He had just left the boy in his wolf form, ripping apart his own underpants.

He listened, but the sound did not repeat itself. He had just begun to think he had made a mistake when he heard the whispered voice again.

_“Dracula...”_

He turned, looking down the hall behind him. He knew he hadn't been imagining the voice this time, but there was no one in the hall.

“Vinny?” he asked, thinking the invisible man might be playing a practical joke on him. He sincerely hoped it was, because he would welcome the opportunity to punish Vinny for his insolence again.

And yet nothing but silence followed. This in itself was odd. Where was everyone? He couldn't hear any voices or movement from the other rooms. He couldn't even hear the growls of the wolf below. It was as if he was the only one in the castle, but reason told him that couldn't be true. They were still trapped together. So where had everyone gone?

_“Dracula...!”_

He heard it again, more insistent this time. And now he was certain that it was not the voice of any of his misbegotten roommates. Yet there was something familiar about the voice. He began making his way toward the open archway of the study, sure that the voice was coming from within.

“Johnathan?” he said with hesitation, stepping into the room. He looked around for the source of the voice, but there was no one present. Of course there wasn't. Johnathan Harker had been dead for over a century.

And yet he was sure he had heard his voice.

“Have you missed me, Dracula?” asked the voice again, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

Vlad's eyes narrowed in suspicion. The voice did sound uncannily similar to Johnathan Harker, and yet he still wasn't convinced.

“Where are you?” he asked, “Show yourself.”

“Isn't it obvious? Where else would I be?”

Vlad's eyes seemed drawn suddenly to the skull resting on the fireplace mantle. No sooner had his gaze locked onto the empty sockets than he heard the voice again.

“That's right, Dracula. You've found me out.”

If his heart could still beat, it would have been racing. Vlad stared at the skull, wondering if this was really happening, or if he had finally gone out of his senses. Perhaps going this long without a fresh meal was taking its toll on him at last.

“Johnathan?” he asked skeptically, “Is that really you?”

“Yes, Dracula. Who else would it be?”

“Erik, I suppose. The Phantom,” said Vlad.

Laughter. The skull actually moved, its jaw pushing it up and down as the ghost of Johnathan Harker chortled.

“Oh yes! You've made many enemies over the years, haven't you Dracula? I suppose I'm not the only one who would want to haunt you.”

Then he remembered. Johnathan had never been this familiar with him. He had certainly never called him by name. To Harker, Vlad had always been _the Count._

“You're not Johnathan Harker,” he said.

There was a pause, then he heard that laughter again, only deeper. It seemed to vibrate through the whole room, not just the skull upon the mantle.

“No... I guess you won't be as easily fooled as the others.”

Vlad would never admit that he was disappointed, though there was a part of him that would welcome the chance to talk with his old adversary again. But Johnathan Harker was long dead, and his spirit had never stayed to haunt Vlad. There was a different spirit inhabiting his skull now.

Not since Van Helsing had tracked him to Transylvania and slain his wives had Vlad felt so angry. He tried to quell the feeling. Flying into a rage would not help him now.

“Get out,” he said as calmly as he could, though he spoke through clenched teeth.

“Out of the skull? Or away from this castle? You know, I don't feel like doing much of either,” said the Phantom provokingly.

“What do you want?”

“An interesting question! And a very important one. What do you _think_ I want?”

Vlad was not in the mood for games. “Get to the point, or piss off.”

“Such courage...” said the Phantom thoughtfully, “Or is it merely stupidity?”

This was in insult to his pride, and he was not about to back down, “You think I should fear you? Why? You cannot harm me. You're nothing but ether.”

He had intended to wound the Phantom, but to his surprise, the skull laughed again. “Ha! Yes, why should you fear a mere phantom? Why should you, a being who cannot die, fear death?”

Vlad thought of Parmes, an immortal man resurrected with Frankenstein's science and his own powerful blood, and suddenly it all made sense to him. The reason why the mummy had been selected as Y's host, his motivation to enlist a man like Dorian's help, and why they had needed a vampire's blood to aid their plan...

“So that's it,” he said, “You want more than the chance to live again. You want to make sure that you will never die.”

“You're a quick one,” said the voice, emanating still from Harker's skull.

“Well, you can forget it. I'm not going to turn you into a vampire.”

The skull opened its jaw wide and roared with laughter, “A vampire! You misunderstand me, Dracula. I do not want a vampire's immortality! When I live again, it will be as other men. I will feel the sun on my flesh and drink the finest wine. You think I would be content to gorge myself on blood alone?”

“Then why speak to me now? If not my blood, what else could you want from me?”

The skull's jaw dropped shut. It seemed to be grinning at him, mocking him.

“All I want is your promise that you won't interfere in what's to come.”

Vlad tried to ignore the feeling of dread that was threatening to overwhelm him. “And what is that?”

“My resurrection, obviously. You will be tempted to stop me, and I'll admit, your strength would be a great threat to me in a mortal body.”

“If you get a body, I'll snap your neck,” Vlad said coolly, after a moment of consideration.

“I urge you to reconsider. You want freedom, and that is what I offer you. Once I have my body and my immortality, there will be no reason to keep you trapped here. Kill me, and I will return to my spirit form as sure as I am here now, and there will be nothing left for you but continued imprisonment. Tell me, can vampires starve to death?”

“This is all assuming you can get a hold of a body,” Vlad said, not rising to the bait, “Your experiment with the mummy failed.

“I admit, his will was stronger than mine. But this time will be different. It was easy to possess Beth's empty shell. This skull gives me no trouble at all. What I need is a proper host... Someone who's will is weakened... Something more like the mind of an animal...”

“The boy,” said Vlad, realizing what the Phantom had planned, “You plan to possess William?”

“Remember, Vlad. It makes no difference to you who wins this game. Remain neutral, and you will have your freedom...”

“Wait...” Vlad started to say, taking a step toward the skull. He felt the ghost's presence leave the room as an icy blast of wind rushed past him. The gust knocked the skull of Johnathan Harker to the floor, where the bones cracked apart along the sutures. He stared at it in disbelief, while from the cellar below he could hear a faint, mournful howl...

 


	32. Possession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a werewolf attempts to fight off a ghost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! That last chapter was short. This one is shorter. Think of them like a package deal!

The wolf rested its head on its paws. It was dark, too dark to see. The stone beneath him was cool. It felt good against his furred belly. He could smell dust, and beneath that the faint odor of damp earth. He sneezed, grumbled to himself, and settled more comfortably against the floor. All was quiet.

To say that he was bored would be an understatement. He had already torn apart the toy that the man had thrown for him. Now there was nothing left to entertain him. He wished the man had stayed to play.

He whined softly. This room was cramped. Pacing around the confines of his stone prison did nothing to satisfy him. He wanted to run. He wanted to feel the earth beneath his paws and the cool air rushing through his fur. Instead, he had a dark, underground room.

Something was wrong. The wolf climbed to his feet and sniffed the air, but there was nothing to smell that hadn't been there before. He could see nothing in the dark. He heard nothing. And yet he felt fear.

His hackles rose and he snarled, baring his fangs at his unseen enemy. He trusted his instincts above his senses. He knew he wasn't alone.

Suddenly, he felt dizzy. He swayed on his paws and nearly stumbled, though he managed to stay on his feet. He shook his head from side to side, trying to rid himself of the feeling but only succeeding in making himself more disoriented.

His whole body began to shake. He was freezing, as if he had just jumped into a cold mountain stream. The dizziness began to fade, but in its wake followed a disturbing numbness. It spread from his head down his neck and along his back. He was going to be consumed by it.

He heard someone's voice in his mind, speaking to him urgently.

_Fight back! You have to fight it!_

He wanted to, but he didn't know how. The numb feeling soaked into his paws and he sank to the floor, panting with fear and not still not understanding what was happening to him. In a last, desperate cry for help, he lifted his face and howled.

The sound was loud. It bounced off the walls of the small chamber, ringing in his ears. For a moment, it was enough to snap him back to his senses, but then he felt a tingling sensation working its way into his head a second time.

The threat was coming from within. He began to claw at his own face, frantically trying to deflect the intruder. He snarled and yelped, trying to repel his attacker with sound when all else failed. The voice in his mind returned, urging him to keep fighting. But his paws were heavy. It was getting harder and harder to move. He sank to the floor, overcome with exhaustion.

His body twitched. He groaned in pain. He remained on the ground, crouched on all fours, gasping for air. Slowly, he lifted his hands. He still couldn't see in the dark, but he flexed his fingers as if testing their dexterity. He raised his shaking hands to his face and ran his fingers over smooth skin. He laughed, his voice breaking.

He climbed unsteadily to his feet, wincing slightly with pain. He made his way carefully toward the stairs, stubbing his toe against the bottom step. It hurt, but the pain made him laugh again. With one hand trailing along the wall, he climbed the steps, stopping only when he stepped on something soft. At the top of the stair, a thin ray of light peeked around the edges of the door. By this light, he could barely make out a shirt and a pair of pants at this feet. He pulled them over his bare skin, luxuriating in the rough fabric of the pants and the soft cotton shirt. He couldn't stop smiling. He wiggled his bare toes against the stone steps and was glad there had been no shoes. He might have felt obliged to wear them, and he was enjoying the feel of the stone against his feet.

He finished his trip up the stair and pushed against the door, but it would not budge. Of course not. They had trapped him in for the night. From the other side of the door, he could hear voices. He pressed his forehead against the wood. With eyes closed, he listened to the men on the other side. He could hear them so clearly, and knew the vampire must have roused the whole castle. That was fine by him. He had what he needed. He heard the vampire tell the others that he would open the door, and so he stepped down a few feet, still smiling as he stared at the door with expectation. He couldn't wait to be in the light.

 


	33. The Phantom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the guests finally meet their host.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all. Sorry for the delay, but in my defense, this is a bit longer than the preceding chapters. There was a lot I wanted to include. I'm sure this chapter is riddled with typos, so feel free to message me if you see anything that needs correcting, and I will do my best to polish things up. The next chapter will be the final chapter. Thanks so much for those of you who have read this far. Happy Reading.

Vlad pushed the sarcophagus away from the cellar door. As Victor watched him, he clutched the scalpel in his hand tighter. They had all armed themselves with whatever they could find. Vinny was holding the Shade's knife in his hand, while Jekyll had grabbed a fire poker from the study. Vlad was unarmed, but of course he had his abilities as a vampire to defend himself if the situation called for it. Only Parmes came without a weapon of any kind. He seemed to think there would be no reason for violence. Meanwhile, the only weapon the Shade had brought with him was his curious music box. Victor wasn't entirely sure this counted as a weapon, but if push came to shove, he could always throw it at someone's head.

Vlad rested his hand on the door handle and turned to the others. Victor steeled himself for what was to come. If Vlad was right, they were going to have to confront the Phantom personally. If he was wrong, then they risked being mauled by a very angry werewolf.

Vlad checked to see that they were all prepared, and each man raised his weapon a bit higher. Vlad nodded to them, and threw open the cellar door.

William blinked and shielded his eyes against the sudden bright light. He walked up the few steps separating him from the hall, staring at each of them in turn once his eyes had adjusted. Victor, like the rest, could only gawk at him in dumbfounded wonder.

William smiled using all of his teeth. “Why so silent, good messieurs?”

Jekyll was the first to speak, though it was in a high, strangled-sounding voice, “Good God, William. You've nearly scared us to death. It is you, isn't it?”

“Don't be a fool, Jekyll,” Vlad said, eyeing William coldly, “I have already told you. This is not the werewolf.”

He was obviously correct. If the slight French accent wasn't enough to expose him, the expression on his face would suffice. Victor had never seen such a look of malicious triumph on William, nor such baffling confidence. He posture was different as well, taking full advantage of his body's height and breadth. Shoulders back, chest forward, arms deceptively loose at his sides - he looked prepared for a fight. And what was worse, he looked like he could win.

“I'm afraid he's right, Doctor,” said the Phantom, their captor, managing to sound slightly apologetic, “William is indisposed at the moment. I'd offer to take a message, but you see, I don't think he'll be back to hear it.”

“Bastard,” Jekyll said, gripping fiercely to the fire-poker and lifting it shoulder-height, “Leave him alone!”  
The Phantom's smile immediately fell from his face.

“I'm afraid I can't do that. And I would be careful about swinging that thing around if I were you. _Any_ of you,” he added, motioning toward their various instruments, “If you attempt to hurt me you'll only be harming the boy. We're the same now, after all.”

“What have you done with William!” Jekyll demanded, clearly upset that his favorite was being used as a puppet.

“He's still here,” said the Phantom, lightly tapping his own chest. “He's just... sleeping. You're familiar with the concept, aren't you? Don't you go to sleep whenever Hyde takes control?”

“Well, I think it's about time we woke Will up, don't you?” Vinny interjected. He gave the Shade a pointed look. “Go on, Boss. Do your worst.”

The Phantom fixed William's eyes on the Shade for the first time, and his expression warped with hatred. Victor saw him flex, perhaps instinctively preparing himself for some attack, but the Shade remained perfectly still, returning his stare with equanimity.

“Uh, Boss? Hello? That's your cue? You are an exorcist, so... Exorcise something?”

“Fraid I can't do that, Vinny,” said the Shade quietly. His tone was perfectly deadpan. Though he spoke to Vinny, he only had eyes for the corporeal Phantom before him.

The Phantom seemed to find this very funny.

“You see?” he asked, “You've put your faith in the wrong person. He only has dominion over the souls of the dead. But so long as I possess this body, I'm one of the living.”

“You've gotta be kidding me!” Vinny shouted. He lifted his knife toward the Phantom, but his hand was shaking. “That's the shittiest loophole I've ever heard! You're not alive! You're nothing but a thief! Let him go!”

“Now, don't be hasty there, son!” the Shade cautioned, his eyes on the flashing silver knife. They slid reluctantly away from the blade and fixed themselves again on the Phantom, “But he does have a point don't he, Erik? Be a mighty big shame if I came all this way just to see you waltz off with a new body.”

“You thought you could trap me in that infernal thing?” asked the Phantom. His hand barely twitched in the direction of the music box, as if afraid to even mention it.

“Belonged to you, didn't it?”

“It means nothing to me. Not as much as having this body does. And if you were capable of exorcising me from it, you would have done so already.”

“Yer a clever ghost, Erik. It'd take a lot more than my usual tricks to stop yeh. And yer right about one thing, so long as you've got yerself a living host, I can't harm yeh. But that body ain't impervious to harm, now is it?”

“I wasn't serious!” Vinny shouted at the Shade, his anger flashing toward the man in the cowboy hat, “I didn't want this to happen to Will!”

Victor felt his stomach binding itself in knots as the implication of their conversation steamrolled into him. The Shade wanted the Phantom to possess William. It was the only way to draw his spirit out of hiding and allow this altercation to take place. But now that the Phantom had William's body, what did he plan to do? If he couldn't exorcise the Phantom without harming Will in the process, what exactly would he do next?

The answer to these questions came sooner than he dared to hope. Without a word, Dorian suddenly jumped at Vinny, wrenching the knife from his hands and shoving him to the floor. Before the others had time to react, Dorian turned on his blackmailer, pinning the Phantom's arms behind his back while drawing the knife to his throat.

“Dorian!” The Phantom shouted as fury flashed across William's features. “What do you think you're doing?”

“You thought you were safe, didn't you?” Dorian sneered into his ear, “You thought no one would harm you if you took his body? Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I don't give a damn about the boy.”

He pressed the edge of the knife against The Phantom's throat, drawing a few beads of blood. The Phantom drew a sharp breath, and Victor saw that the flesh around the wound had become red and blistered.

“Stop!” he shouted, hardly knowing why.

He was ignored by Dorian, who continued to hiss threats at the Phantom. “Nice body you picked. Too bad it belonged to a werewolf. Looks like you're terribly vulnerable to silver.”

Victor's mind was working fast. The knife was plated in silver. But why should that be the case? The Shade had brought it to free Vinny, hadn't he? Or was it always meant to serve some darker purpose?

Victor glanced at the Shade and shuddered. He was staring fixedly at Dorian and the Phantom, but he made no move to come to anyone's aid. He merely clutched at the music box, raising it to chest level. His expression was one of hunger. And suddenly Victor understood. His only aim was to capture the Phantom's spirit. Like Dorian, he didn't care whether William lived or died in the process.

“Do you think your painting will be safe if you allow me to disappear?” The Phantom said, his voice dangerously calm even as the knife continued to scorch the tender flesh of his neck. “If you betray me now, I will see that it is destroyed.”

“I'll find it myself once you're gone,” Dorian said, though Victor could see a flicker of doubt in his eyes. The hand holding the knife pulled away slightly.

The Phantom used that moment of hesitation to act. He broke through Dorian's loose grip and grasped the hand holding the knife, twisting Dorian's wrist hard enough to break it. Dorian dropped the knife with a shout of pain. The Phantom kicked it down the steps and into the cellar, then hoisted Dorian into the air as if he weighed nothing, throwing the man into the opposite wall where he lay in a crumpled, groaning heap.

The Phantom rubbed his cut and seared neck, smiling through his obvious discomfort.

“I ought to thank you for the reminder, Dorian,” he said as the other man climbed unsteadily to his feet. “This _is_ the body of a werewolf. And it is strongest during a full moon, not matter what form I take.

“How are you doing this?” Victor asked, “William could never control his transformation. How did you master it in one evening?”

“The boy lacked resolve,” the Phantom stated simply, “It's a trait that I, fortunately, have in abundance. Now, are you going to give me what I want, or will I have to force you?”

Victor didn't understand the question. The Phantom had already taken William's body. What else could he desire? Before he could ask, Jekyll struck. He charged at the Phantom, swinging the fire-poker like a baseball bat. The Phantom dodged it easily, but the look of outrage on his face was clear. Jekyll, thrown off balance when his swing failed to strike home, fell to his knees, but he was up again in an instant.

“Careful, Doctor!” the Phantom shouted as he danced just out of reach of the iron staff, “You might end up harming dear William!”

“I think you're mistaking me for a doctor who cares!” Jekyll fired back, swinging the poker wildly so that it nearly bashed Victor in the head.

“Watch it, Jekyll!” Victor said, “You nearly hit me!”

“Then get out of my way!” Jekyll snarled in response. He didn't let up on his attack for an instant, and Dorian, his wrist fully healed, soon joined him in the struggle to take down the Phantom.

Victor shied away from their fight, dragging a stunned Parmes along with him. As they crouched behind the sarcophagus for cover, Victor watched the action with growing concern. Something was wrong with Jekyll. It wasn't like him to fly into a rage like this. Though he looked the same, there was an unfamiliar frenzied gleam in his eyes. He was attacking the Phantom with everything he had, though his swings were wild. He wasn't hitting his mark.

“Hyde?” Victor mused quietly, watching Jekyll go. Parmes looked at him questioningly, but Vinny was suddenly by their side. Given everything else that was going on, Victor wasn't surprised to see Vinny stripping off his clothes.

“Henry's gonna need some help,” Vinny said. He pointed to the scalpel still clutched in Victor's hands. “Are those silver?”

“I don't think so,” Victor said, “Steel, probably.”

“Good, then it won't permanently damage Will if I use them.”

Without further comment, Vinny grabbed the small knife and vanished from sight. The shiny metal was still clearly visible, but would be easy for the Phantom to overlook, engaged as he was with fighting off both Jekyll and Dorian at the same time.

The Shade had done nothing to intervene, except to offer a word of encouragement to the two men assailing his arch foe. Unfortunately, the Phantom only seemed to enjoy testing the limits of his new body, leaping agilely just out of reach of Dorian's fists or Hyde's melee weapon. Dorian never seemed to tire, no matter how often the Phantom, using a werewolf's superior strength, tossed him into the stone walls of the corridor. But Hyde was tiring quickly, locked as he was in the older body of Dr. Jekyll. The Phantom, sensing his weakness and tiring of their sport, saw an opening and took it. He buried his fist into Hyde's abdomen with enough force to knock the wind from him and wrenched the fire poker from his grasp. Hyde fell to his hands and knees, clutching at his stomach and gagging as he struggled for breath while the Phantom swung the fire poker at Dorian's head with enough force to kill a normal man. Dorian crumpled to the ground, bleeding profusely from a wound in his head.

“There, that ought to slow even you down for a moment, my Dorian,” the Phantom said. He didn't even sound winded.

Then he screamed. Victor, who had been watching the whole time with the most rapt attention, had still failed to notice the floating scalpel approaching the Phantom from behind. Vinny plunged the knife into his shoulder and ripped downward. The blade was small, but very sharp, and as the Phantom turned to his invisible assailant in fury, Victor could see a large swath of red blossoming across the back of his shirt.

Vinny dropped the scalpel in a hurry, trying to disguise his location from the Phantom, but in the next instant the Phantom had grabbed at his throat and lifted him one-armed into the air.

“You think because I can't see you I can't catch you?” snarled the Phantom, “I can still smell you, you imbecile. If you have done anything to disfigure this body... I might as well kill you now.”

Color was gradually restoring itself into Vinny's body as he struggled in the Phantom's grasp, kicking uselessly at the air. His face was turning purple.

“Vlad!” Victor called across the hall to the vampire. Vlad had been standing only a few feet from the Shade this whole time, just as still and silent. “Vlad, you are the only one strong enough to stop him!”

Vlad looked in Victor's direction absently, his expression unreadable. Victor didn't understand why he wouldn't help them, until he heard the Phantom laugh.

“Why should he stop me? Hasn't Vinny been an annoyance to him from the very start? I'd say I'm doing you all a favor.”

“Vlad please,” Victor pleaded, ignoring the Phantom's taunts, “Vinny isn't our enemy, the Phantom is. Think of everything he's done to us!”

“I'm the only one who can grant you your freedom, Vlad,” the Phantom said, his tone soft, almost seductive. It was completely incongruous with William's voice.

“Vlad, he's lying! This was never a part of his plan! For all we know, he was going to take Parmes and leave us all here to rot!”

Vlad continued to stare dispassionately at Victor, showing no signs that he was going to interfere. Victor felt his heart sink, then anger threatening to burst within him. He tried to take a step toward Vlad, but Parmes held him back.

“You coward!” Victor shouted at him, “You vile, filthy coward! You're just going to let him win? You're going to let him take what he wants and kill the rest of us in the process, just so you can leave?”  
Vlad looked away from him, completely detached, and fixed his attention on the Phantom. Vinny's thrashing had grown more weak, his face more purple. Finally, he seemed to be losing consciousness.

The Phantom dropped him on the ground and smiled triumphantly at his still form.

“There, you see? This is what happens when you try to oppose me. But Frankenstein, you are mistaken. No more lives need be taken tonight, so long as you...”

Vlad chose this moment to punch the Phantom in the face with enough force to send him reeling. He clutched at his jaw, growling with anger as he stared down Vlad.

“Oh sorry, were you finished?” asked the vampire.

“I thought we had an understanding, Dracula?”

“And I considered your offer. But then I remembered that I promised if I ever got my hands on you, I'd give you the worst beating of your life. I couldn't before, when you were a ghost. But now you're so much more... accessible.”

The Phantom raised one of William's eyebrows, “Is this the part where you say ' _I can really sink my teeth into you_?”

Vlad smirked, baring his fangs in the process.

“Very well,” said the Phantom. The tore the blood-soaked shirt from his torso and thew it to the ground. Victor watched in amazement as brown fur grew from his arms and rippled across his shoulders and chest. His ears and teeth both became more pointed, and his eyes turned yellow. It wasn't a complete werewolf transformation, but it was clear he could do more damage with his talon-like hands and sharp canine teeth in this half-form.

The vampire and the werewolf did not need to exchange any more banter. They fell on each other like two feral beasts. Vlad didn't appear to have any reservations about killing the Phantom, be he in William's body or not. Victor could only watch them in growing apprehension, desperately hoping that somehow, William and the rest would come out of this alive.

It was Parmes who moved while Victor was distracted. He dodged the battling pair to run to Vinny's aid, dragging his body back to where Victor knelt behind the sarcophagus.

“He is still breathing,” Parmes said to Victor. “I think he only fainted. What about the others?”

Victor peered over the edge of the clay box and saw that Jekyll... or Hyde as the case may be, had dragged himself to the recess of the cellar entrance. Perhaps he had aspirations of retrieving the Shade's silver knife, but he stopped on the top step, still grabbing at his stomach and taking large, slow breaths. Dorian was still laying on the ground, though the pool of blood didn't seem to be spreading anymore. Victor didn't know how long it would take for the portrait to fix him this time, but he was surprised to see him still unconscious.

“I think they're fine,” Victor lied, turning back to Parmes and seeing that he was attempting to revive Vinny by lightly slapping his face. “I don't know if that's going to help...”

To both of their surprise, Vinny suddenly jolted awake, shouting, “HUH? What? Where am I? And why do I have the worst pain in the neck?”

“You were nearly strangled to death.”

“Oh, that's right.” Vinny said, sitting up and glaring at the still-dueling forms of Vlad and the Phantom. “What an asshole.”

“Vinny, do you think you can sneak into the cellar and retrieve the knife?”

“Probably. I mean yeah. But if I tried using that, it could hurt William, right? I want the Phantom dead, but I don't want to kill Will in the process. Speaking of which, where's the Boss?”

Victor cast his eyes around for Vinny's employer, but the Shade had vanished. Both he and the music box were gone. So too, he realized with a start, was the body of Dorian.

“Gone,” Victor said, bending low behind the sarcophagus again. “Dorian too.”

“Cocksuckers,” Vinny muttered.

“What do we do now?” Parmes asked.

Victor poked his head around the side of the clay box again. “Wait and hope that Vlad is able to subdue him without killing William?”

“Great,” said Vinny, “So we're screwed.”

As Victor observed the battle being waged between Vlad and the Phantom, he wasn't sure he agreed with Vinny. Vlad seemed to be holding his own. It was true that William's body possessed greater strength during a full moon, but Vlad seemed to have him beat when it came to speed. Watching them spar was an incredible sight. Vlad shifted fluidly between forms, one minute striking at the wolf-man with his fists, then next melting into a thick fog which was impervious to the wolf's claws. Then again he would change, his small, bat body flying around the wolf-man's head, buffeting him with thin, membranous wings and biting at his eyes.

The Phantom was growing impatient. He was more wolf than man when he struck out against the bat, missing his mark as once again Vlad dissipated into a thick fog. The wolf howled with frustration, waving his head back and forth to see where the vampire would strike from next. The mist was quickly condensing into the form of a man directly behind the wolf, but the Phantom had grown wise to Vlad's tricks. He spun around and pounced on Vlad, pummeling him into the floor before the vampire could muster the energy needed to transform again. With the vampire pinned beneath him, the wolf-man had him completely at the mercy of his slashing claws. Victor knew that Vlad would regenerate at a rate comparable to that of Parmes, but he felt his heart beat in terror as Vlad's attempts to defend himself were rebuffed again and again. The vampire seemed to be growing weaker, while the wolf-man's strength appeared to grow as he approached victory. He lifted one paw-like hand high above his head, preparing to deliver a devastating blow directly across Vlad's neck.

Victor didn't pretend to be an expert on vampires, but he was certain that decapitation would kill one as surely as a stake through the heart. Before he himself knew what he was doing, he had sprung up from his hiding place, shouting for the Phantom to stop.

To his surprise, he did. The face that the Phantom turned toward him was beastly. It bore no resemblance to the William he knew, but its expression of rage softened into a sort of grimace that Victor assumed was a smile.

“I can see that you're eager to die, Frankenstein,” he purred in French, “But you'll have to wait your turn.”

“You won't kill him,” Victor said, continuing their conversation in English as a small gesture of resistance.

“Who's going to stop me? You?”

Victor took a deep breath, the synapses in his brain working overtime to find him a solution to this problem. Even Jekyll was staring at him from the cellar entrance, obviously waiting to see what Victor would say.

“If you kill him, I won't give you what you want.”

Erik's interest was peaked. “And what exactly do you think I want?”

“A body of your own. I can make you one. I will make you one. Just leave William alone, and I'll do whatever you ask.”

“Are you crazy?” Vinny hissed, “You can't promise him that!”

Victor ignored him. He was staring directly into the eyes of the Phantom. He didn't know if Vlad was unconscious, but he didn't want to break his concentration to check.

Some of the beast-like qualities of the Phantom's face faded as he smiled. He looked more like William now.

“It's too late for that, Frankenstein,” he said. “I gave you the opportunity to make me a body, and you refused me. Why should I accept your offer now when I already have a body? And I must say, I like this one. It's powerful.”

For a moment, anger flickered across the Phantom's face. “But I hope for your sake your friends haven't given me any scars.”

“I don't understand,” Victor said falteringly. He had played his last gambit and it failed. “What is it that you want?”

“There's only one thing I need now,” the Phantom said, climbing to his feet. Vlad stirred below him, but became still again when Erik delivered a kick to his head. “And it's something only Parmes can give me.”  
Victor's gaze snapped down to where Parmes sat next to Vinny. He was staring back at Victor with wide eyes.

“Parmes, are you there too?” the Phantom asked. “Why don't you stand so I can see you?”

Victor wanted to tell Parmes not to obey, but Parmes was already climbing to his feet. He faced the Phantom bravely, squaring his shoulders as if preparing himself for an attack.

“You're not a terrible specimen yourself,” Erik said, his voice dripping with scorn, “Enjoying my brain?”

“It was very kind of you to share it,” Parmes answered promptly. Victor wanted to applaud his cheek, but decided now was not the time.

“I'm sure you realize by now that kindness had nothing to do with it. You know what I want, yes?”

“My immortality?” Parmes asked. He kept his voice calm, but from his place by his side, Victor could see that he'd broken into a sweat.

“Precisely. You know of an elixir that can render one impenetrable from disease, injury, and age. It's strong enough to keep your heart beating even when your brain was removed from your body. I may not be able to harm you, but I will have it, and you will give it to me, or I will kill your new friends in front of you, one by one.”

“I can't. I don't have what I need to create the potion. Perhaps with more time... if you let us go...”

“What are you talking about, Parmes? Don't you have everything you need in the ring on your finger?”

Parmes flinched, his eyes widening with shock. Victor stared down that the gold band that Parmes had dug from his own tomb. The small, clear gem glittered in its setting. Could such a small item really contain the elixir of life?

Parmes swallowed nervously, one hand gripping the other to hide his ring from view.

“You don't know what you're asking me to do...”

“And I'm growing tired of arguing with you all,” the Phantom said. He gave Vlad another sharp kick, and this time Victor was sure he heard a rib crack. Vlad grunted in pain but made no move to escape. “I think I've made it clear that I'm not one for idle threats.”

“Please, Erik...” Parmes pleaded, “I've seen your mind. I know what kind of man you can be! You don't have to do this...”

He had obviously said the wrong thing. The Phantom's eyes flashed in anger and he took a few menacing strides toward Parmes. Victor instinctively pulled them further back down the hall, stopping only when the Phantom had ceased his forward momentum.

“You don't know me! You have no idea what I am capable of! Keep out of my memories!”

He sprang on top of the sarcophagus and reached down to where Vinny was still cowering. He grabbed him by the hair and pulled him roughly on top of the clay structure with him, wrapping a paw around this neck again.

“No more arguing! You will do as I say, or I will crush his neck right now!”

“Alright!” Parmes cried in desperation, “I will do as you command! Just give me time!”

“You have five minutes,” the Phantom said, “I'll be waiting.”

Parmes rushed past him, sprinting down the hall and sparing not even a glance toward Jekyll or Vlad. Victor, after glaring into the smirking face of the Phantom, followed after him at a rapid pace.

“Parmes!” he called, catching up to him as they neared the laboratory, “Parmes, wait! You can't do this!”

“He has left me with no choice, Victor.”

“But think of the repercussions! If you give him the elixir now, William may never regain control over his body! That's as good as killing him!”

“And he will die if we try to stop Erik,” Parmes argued.

They had reached the laboratory doors. When Parmes pushed them open,Victor was startled to see that they were not alone. Dorian, having made a full recovery, was sitting cross-legged on one of the wooden tables, absently playing with a mortar and pestle.

“Is it all over, then?” Dorian asked. Victor wanted to slap him. Instead, he could only stammer his indignation at Dorian having abandoned them in the middle of a crisis.

“Well, what more could I do?” Dorian asked offhand, “I tried to fight him, but he was too strong. Didn't see you jumping into the fray, Frankenstein.”

“Victor's role will come,” Parmes remarked vaguely. He plucked the mortar and pestle from Dorian's hands and placed them on the table. Victor watched him with apprehension as he pried the stone from its golden setting with his fingernails. He dropped it into the mortar and began to grind it into dust.

“The stone is the elixir?” Victor said in disbelief.

“A dried sample of it,” Parmes said, intent on his work. “But it will need to be liquid before it can be used.”

Victor could still not condone Parmes decision, but Dorian appeared eager to take part in whatever scheme had evolved in his absence. He jumped up from the table and searched among the medical supplies left over from Victor's experiments with Parmes' mummified body. Victor suspected that he was only acting in self-interest, hoping that by helping Parmes he could somehow aid in their escape.

“Will a saline solution do?” he asked, holding up a small glass vial.

Parmes looked at Victor questioningly. Victor still didn't agree with what Parmes planned to do, but he begrudgingly told him what it was.

Parmes said that the salt and water solution would suit just fine, and accepted the vial from Dorian with thanks. He emptied the vial into the mortar, and stirred the contents with a clean glass rod until the powered stone was completely dissolved.

“It will need to be placed in his blood,” he said.

Once again, Dorian was quick to supply the necessary item, a needle and syringe. Parmes carefully filled the syringe with as much of the solution as he could. Victor noted that his hands were shaking.

“We can think of another way,” Victor said, sensing that Parmes was nervous, “You don't have to go through with this.”

“He hasn't given us any time. Vinny, Vlad, and Dr. Jekyll are still with him.”

“But if you give him that, he'll be unstoppable.”

Parmes held the syringe to the light, as if inspecting the solution for impurities. The liquid was completely clear. Victor was surprised to see a sad smile on his face. With his free hand, he patted Victor's shoulder consolingly.

“You need to trust me. I need you to be strong when the time comes.”

Victor had no idea what he was talking about, and yet somehow, he did trust Parmes. He allowed the Egyptian to lead the way back toward the corridor where their unfortunate friends remained in the hands of a lunatic, pausing only to glare at Dorian.

“Aren't you coming?”

Dorian had seated himself on the wooden table again. As Victor watched, he sprawled himself on his back, arms tucked behind his head.

“No thanks. I may be able to recover from any injury, but an otherwise fatal blow to the head still hurts. I'm not in any hurry to repeat that little fiasco. You just run along, and I'll wait here.”

“Coward...” Victor muttered before hurrying after Parmes.

The Phantom beamed at them as they made their way into the hall. He had released Vinny and allowed him to sit by Jekyll's side. Vlad, however, had his head underneath the Phantom's bare foot. Apparently, as the greatest threat to his safety, Erik had decided to subject Vlad to further humiliation.

“Did you bring it?” he asked, barely able to contain his avarice.

“It's here,” Parmes said, holding the syringe high.

“Don't drop it!” the Phantom commanded. “I want you to bring it to me, slowly. Frankenstein can wait where he is.”

Parmes glanced at Victor, and gave him a nod. He walked slowly toward the Phantom, holding the syringe carefully in both hands. When he was within arm's reach of the Phantom, he bent at the waist, offering the item to Erik with his head bowed.

Victor expected some trick or sudden attack. Perhaps Parmes would smash the syringe on the floor and push the Phantom away from Vlad before he could react. Then Vlad would jump up, fully revived from his fight, and...

And what? Kill William? He could see alternative in which the boy's life was not put at risk.

But none of that happened. The Phantom plucked the syringe from Parmes' open palms and inspected the clear liquid inside, holding it up to the light just as Parmes had done. Parmes, still bent double, backed quickly away in an attitude of complete servility.

“It must be injected directly into the blood,” Parmes stated.

“And how soon will it take effect?” asked the Phantom.

“Almost instantly.”

The Phantom smiled. The fur and fangs retreated to reveal William's true face, though it was still marred by the mad gleam in Erik's eyes. He held out his arm, placing the tip of the needle directly over one bulging vein.

“If you see that cowboy friend of yours,” Erik said pleasantly, unable to resist a final gloat before he achieved his long-awaited aim, “Do give him my best.”

He slipped the needle smoothly under his skin and depressed the syringe. At almost the same moment, Parmes responded to his taunt.

“Why don't you tell him yourself?”

For a second, Erik looked truly afraid. He turned to look over his shoulder, and sure enough, the Shade had returned. He was smiling at Erik with obvious satisfaction, the music box clutched in his hands.

The Phantom saw it, but instead of terror, he burst into laughter.

“That thing? Did you really think that would have any effect on...”

He stopped mid-sentence. Victor watched as his face turned white, then yellow, then a pale green all in a matter of moments. He staggered away from Vlad, clutching at his neck and making choking sounds, as if he couldn't breathe. He was sweating profusely. He looked down at the small red pinprick on his arm and stared at it with bloodshot eyes.

Victor stared as well. Starting near the injection point and swirling up his arm was a latticework of black lines, mapping out the path of his veins. They speedily worked their way toward his heart.

“You...” he managed to say while gagging, “What did you do to me...?”

“I tried to warn you,” Parmes said, his eyes full of sadness, “I do not have the elixir of life.”

“Then what did I...?”

“Poison. I designed it to be strong enough to reverse the effects of the elixir. It didn't work on me... But for someone like you, I think it will do just fine.”

Erik howled with rage as he realized he was dying. He spat curses at them all even as he fell to his knees, clawing at his own chest, which was showing the same rapidly-advancing black marks. He stopped screaming abruptly just before the lines reached the flesh above his heart, and William's body collapsed face-down on the floor. Victor felt a powerful, unseen force rush past him, followed by a loud crack and a rumbling boom, then silence.

He had no time to process what had just happened. Parmes was already springing into action, running William's side and pushing the boy over onto his back. He laid his ear to William's chest, listening for a heartbeat. Then he looked up, looking not at Victor, but at Vlad, who was seated on the floor nearby, looking badly beaten, but conscious all the same.

“We need to act quickly before there is permanent damage,” he said, “Vlad, you must suck the poison out.”

Vlad stared at him blankly, “You want me to do what?”

“There's no time!” Parmes said urgently, “Please help, or we will not be able to revive him.”

For one horrible moment, Victor thought that Vlad would refuse. Instead, the vampire uttered a curse, then crawled over to the werewolf's side, lifting his arm to bite down where the needle had penetrated the soft flesh.

“You must not swallow it,” Parmes cautioned, “I fear the poison would be strong enough to kill even a being such as yourself.”

Vlad didn't need the warning. When the first mouthful of blood filled his mouth, he immediately spat it on the ground, gagging and cursing.

“It tastes like acid!”

“Please continue! There's not much time!”

Vlad did as he was told, drinking and spitting out mouthful after mouthful of William's blood. Victor was relieved to see the deadly black marks receding inch by inch, but he was becoming alarmed at just how much blood was now soaking the floor around them.

“Parmes, he'll need blood,” Victor said, “Even if we revive him, he won't last long with the amount he's lost. We'll have to do a blood transfusion.”

Parmes looked up at Victor, “What do we need to make that happen?”

Victor told them he had some things in the lab, then sprinted there for the second time that evening. Dorian was sitting up on the table, looking scared.

“I heard shouting and a crash. Is it over? Who won?”

“What's your blood type?” Victor asked, ignoring Dorian's questions as he searched through the lab supplies for the same materials he had used to infuse Dracula's blood with Parmes.

“What? Why?”

“Just tell me!”

Dorian simply glared at him, uncooperative. Victor decided not to bother with him. He didn't have the time to be trading insults with Dorian. Instead, he tucked the medical apparatus under his arm and turned to leave, only realizing at the last moment that William might need a shock to re-start his heart. Without hesitation, he turned back into the lab and made his way toward the table where Beth's body still lay under a white sheet. As Dorian watched, he pulled away the sheet and quickly drove a scalpel through Beth's synthetic skin. His face set in grim determination, he opened the cage-like chest cavity, and carefully withdrew a small, crackling cube.

“What is that?” Dorian asked.

“Power core,” Victor replied.

He knew that removing the core and using it as a makeshift defibrillator would permanently damage it. He hadn't designed it to serve such a purpose. His chances of rebuilding his robot wife, even if they did manage to escape, would be gone. But it didn't matter to him now. He finally had a chance to save a life.

He arrived just as Vlad spat another mouthful of blood to the floor and sat back on his heels.

“I think that was the last of it,” he said, rolling his tongue around his mouth and spitting a few more times to be sure he was clear of the toxin.

Victor knelt next to Parmes, who was holding William's head in his hands, muttering over him in a language Victor couldn't understand. He couldn't tell if it was a spell or a prayer. William looked deathly white.

“I've got the supplies,” he said, “Do we know his blood type?”

“Tastes like AB negative,” Vlad said, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

“Same as mine,” said Jekyll, already rolling up his sleeve as he slid closer.

Victor eyed him warily. The man looked like Jekyll, but after seeing the way he attacked the Phantom earlier, Victor wasn't sure there wasn't a bit of Hyde in him.

“Which one are you?” he asked.

“Does it really matter?” Jekyll said with his trademark impatience, “Same body, same blood! Hurry!”  
Victor didn't pause, though he did take a sort of dim satisfaction driving the needle roughly into Jekyll's exposed vein. To his credit, the Doctor didn't flinch. He merely stared down a William's unconscious face as Victor slipped the IV into his arm and began the transfusion. While Jekyll gave blood, Victor checked the boy's pulse. As he feared, his heart was not beating.

“That's enough,” Victor said, “We need to get his blood flowing again, or his brain will suffocate.”

He ordered the others to stand clear and performed the procedure himself. Unlike his previous experiments, he was not attempting to reanimate a corpse patched together from pieces of different bodies. But performing CPR on a werewolf in front of an audience of anxious horror-movie monsters definitely ranked among the strangest and most stressful things he had ever done – and that was saying something. He had once chased an un-dead murderer across the arctic in a dog sled.

Finally, he could do no more, and William was still not breathing. Sitting back, exhausted, he reached for the small square battery. He sighed, his thoughts straying to Beth and his own lost immortality, but he didn't once consider letting William die. That was not an option.

Carefully avoiding the active edges, he zapped William in the chest.

William's body gave a horrifying lurch, his back arched upward, then he fell to the ground again with a thud. For a moment, there was an awful stillness in the room.

Then there was a great shuddering gasp, and William opened his eyes. He rolled to the side, coughing an retching as he lay in a puddle of his own tainted blood.

Jekyll and Vinny were crying with relief as they threw their arms around his neck. Victor was too exhausted for tears. He merely slid across the floor, away from the rejoicing pair and their confused werewolf, and rested his back against the wall. For the first time, he noticed that the Shade was still there, staring at him. When Victor caught his gaze, he smiled, his mustache twirling upward at the corners.

“Well done, Sonny. You've saved him from death.”

“No thanks to you,” Vlad remarked. He had turned away in disgust while the others continued their displays of affection. Now his critical eye was fixed on the Shade. “Was it at least worth the trouble?”

“What's that?”

“ _Did you catch him_?” Vlad seethed, eyes flashing.

Here the Shade looked a trifle uncomfortable.

“Ah yes,” he said, “As to that...”

And he drew the music box out from behind his back. It was almost unrecognizable, since it had been reduced to nothing more than a broken pile of rubble, topped with minuscule golden cymbals.

“I do have good news,” the Shade said, anticipating Vlad's next cutting remark, “I do declare that the doors are now open.”

 


	34. Parting Ways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which all things come to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally done! This project has been many years in the making, and I'm very pleased to have seen it through to the end. Thanks so much to everyone who has been reading, leaving kudos, and commenting on the story. Special thanks to my friends and my sister who patiently dealt with me using them as sounding boards for each and every update. Couldn't have done it without you guys.
> 
> Stick around, because I'm thinking of uploading an FAQ bonus chap about the characters. (Sorry, no epilogue.) And now, the finale...

In the end, he didn't know why he sought out the vampire, but Vlad wasn't difficult to find. He was in the study. An open suitcase lay on the coffee table with an array of clothes piled in. Vlad was busy throwing a seemingly random assortment of items on top. William watched from the doorway as he rifled through the bookshelves, knocking some texts to the floor while others were tossed carelessly into the suitcase. He snatched pictures from the walls, including a small oil portrait of a woman with dark hair. When he tried cramming this into the case only to find that it didn't fit, he ripped the painting from its ornate frame and shoved in the bare canvas instead.

“You're leaving now?” William asked as Vlad continued to ransack his own study.

Vlad's frenzied packing didn't pause for a moment while he gave William his answer.

“The doors are open now, and I won't spend another moment in this castle.”

“It'll be daybreak soon,” William commented.

“All the more reason to leave quickly,” said Vlad.

He was now attempting to close the latches on his suitcase, but it was stuffed too full. He threw he lid open irritably and began sorting through items that he didn't want to carry. The oil portrait didn't make the final cut, and was thrown without ceremony on top of its fractured frame.

William thought about the coming dawn. He could feel the moon the way other people can feel the warmth of the summer sun on their skin. Daylight might be approaching, but the moon still held its place in the sky. And yet for the moment, he was human.

Frankenstein had reasoned that he wasn't currently a wolf because of what the Phantom had done to him. He thought the change could be permanent. But Dr. Jekyll was of the opinion that William's body simply didn't have the energy needed to generate another transformation after everything it had been through that night. The two had argued science while fussing over his wounds until Will pleaded for some time alone.

When he had time to think, he realized it didn't matter why things had turned out the way they did, but he agreed with Dr. Jekyll. This control was only temporary, and next month the wolf would return.

The thought was a depressing one. It was easier to think about Vlad and what he was planning now. When he asked him about the fate of the castle, Vlad actually paused long enough to give him a questioning look. Emboldened, he continued, “It's yours, isn't it?”

“Half of it is already in ruins. Let the rest crumble to dust for all I care.”

Vlad finally managed to shut his suitcase just as William noticed his pet skull resting on the floor under his chair. He crossed the room and fished it out of its hiding place, handing it to Vlad.

“You forgot this. It's important to you, right?”

He seemed to have caught Vlad by surprise. Though the vampire accepted the skull, he said nothing. William wasn't exactly expecting thanks, but it was unsettling how he just stared at him wordlessly. To break the sudden tense atmosphere, he added, “Anyway, it doesn't seem right to just leave him here.”

Vlad continued to observe William curiously.

“You can take it if you want,” he said. William thought he was still talking about the skull. His confusion must have shown on his face, because Vlad added, “The castle. I won't be returning, and I take it you won't be going home in your condition. Why not stay here? You won't hurt anyone in a place like this. I chose it specifically because of its isolation. Or at least, it was _supposed_ to be isolated.”

William was stunned. Dracula was offering to give him a castle. William didn't know what to make of this strange generosity, so he settled with saying, “Thanks. But I've had another offer. Dr. Jekyll's invited me to stay with him in Scotland. He's going to try to develop a cure.”

“Do you really think he'll find one?” asked Vlad. He sounded incredulous.

William shrugged, “Honestly? I don't think there is a way to reverse what's happened to me. But Y... The Phantom. He was able to control the transformation. So at least I know its possible. If he can do it, maybe I can learn to control it, too.”

Vlad appeared to consider William's line of reasoning before asking, “Do you remember anything that happened while you were possessed?”

William nodded solemnly. “I remember everything. It was like I was paralyzed... I had no control, except my body kept moving. I could see and hear and feel everything that was happening, but I couldn't do anything to stop it... I remember it all until the Phantom took the poison. I think I must have blacked out with him when...”  
“...When you died,” Vlad supplied when William was unable to continue. He tone was one of pity, probably thinking that William had stopped because he was too traumatized to go on. But William hadn't stopped because he was shaken. No, he paused because he realized why he'd gone looking for Vlad in the first place.

“Jekyll told me what you did,” he said, “He told me you sucked out the poison so I wouldn't stay dead.”

“Did you come to thank me?” Vlad said. He looked disgusted by the very notion. William's answer surprised him.

“No,” he said bluntly. “I mean, I am grateful that I'm not dead. And I know you didn't have to help save me. But I'm still pissed at you because you attacked me before. The way I see it, we're even now. But being even doesn't mean I have to like you. You're still an asshole.”

Vlad was staring at him again, jaw slack with shock. William shrugged.

“Anyway, I guess I just came to tell you that before you left.”

This time Vlad burst out laughing. He tucked the skull into the crook of his left arm and held his right hand out to William. William gripped his reflexively and they shook. Vlad finally acknowledged him, and there had been a time when William would desperately have craved that validation. It meant very little to him now, or at least, it didn't mean as much to him as finally telling Vlad what he thought of him.

“I hope we never cross paths again,” Vlad said. William didn't speak, but he gave Vlad's hand a firmer squeeze to show that he couldn't agree more.

“And speaking of never crossing paths again, what about Vinny?”

It was William's turn to be surprised. He hadn't expected Vlad to show any interest in Vinny's plans.

“He's vanished already,” William said. “I think he slipped out as soon as the Shade gave him his payment. Something about the money being wired to a Swiss Bank Account...”

“That figures,” said Vlad. He lifted his suitcase and made to leave. William followed him into the hall.

“What about you?” he asked, “Where will you go?”

Vlad shrugged. “I've been avoiding people for too long. It's time I came out of hiding and ventured into society again. Who knows...” he flashed Will a fanged smile, “Perhaps I'll try living in England again.”

“Just stay away from Scotland, and I'm sure you'll do fine.”

Vlad opened the front door. As the Shade said, it opened for him with ease. Vlad stared out into the night, the horizon just barely tinged blue-gray with the approaching sun. He took a deep breath and strode purposefully away from the castle. William knew better than to ask if he had any message to pass on to the others. He merely watched the vampire until he blended into the shadows of the trees.

Alone at last, William took a single step beyond the open door. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared up at the wide moon. Tomorrow night it would be waning, and he would have an entire month to learn to control the transformation before then. He closed his eyes and tried to capture the moment... To memorize how it felt to resist the moon's pull... To remember what it felt like be human...

He felt a warm puff of air on the back of his neck, and the moment was shattered.

He spun around, sensing someone's presence very close to him, but seeing no one in the hall. For one terrible second, he thought that the Phantom had returned, seeking vengeance or a chance to possess him again. But his terror fled when he heard a familiar voice laughing at him.

“Oh my god! You should see your face!”

“Vinny!” William cried, his tone full of more amazement than anger. “What are you doing? I thought you left?”

“And miss the chance of witnessing you and Vlad's little soap opera? Not a chance.”

William made a sour face. He'd gotten used to talking with Vinny in person and didn't like resorting back to having conversation with the air. Then again, since Vinny was obviously not wearing clothes, he supposed it was better for him to be invisible.

“How much of our conversation did you hear?”

“Enough to know that you're going to Scotland with Jekyll. Good for you, Will. I hope it works out. But if I were you, I'd hold on to that beast power long enough to track the dog that bit you and show him whose boss.”

William couldn't help but grin. Unlike Vlad, he didn't hold any grudge toward Vinny for dragging him into this mess.

“What about you? Are you offering to join me in this hunting party?”

“Nah, I've got bigger fish to fry. In fact, I'd better be off. Don't want to lose ol' Dracula's tail.”

“You're going after Vlad?”

“Hell yes I am! Do you have any idea how big a bounty that guy has on his head? Let's put it this way, there's a reason he was hiding out in this creepy castle, and it wasn't because it goes so well with his coffin.”

“A bounty? But who would put a bounty on Dracula?

William felt a friendly weight on his shoulder and knew that Vinny was standing right in front of him. “I'm not at liberty to discuss that, Will. But I'll give you a hint. It's a very old family whose name beings with a V and ends with Helsing.”

William shrugged off the hand and delivered a light punch where he figured Vinny's chest would be. It connected and he could hear Vinny give a small 'oof!' Satisfied he'd found his location, William pulled Vinny into a hug. Nude or not, he'd miss the invisible man.

“He's not gonna be happy to see you,” William said when he pulled away.

Vinny laughed again, “Who says he's gonna see me?”

* * *

 

The following morning, Jekyll sat in the stolen car that had brought him up the mountain. With the car door still open and one leg outside, he turned the key in the ignition repeatedly. The engine clicked, sputtered, and gave a few false starts. But after much cursing and slapping of the steering wheel, the car choked itself back to life.

“Ha ha!” Jekyll cried happily, giving the car an affectionate pat. He stepped out the car, leaving it running because he dared not shut it off again. “How do you like that, Frankenstein?” he called as Victor passed by on the way toward his own car. “Looks like you're not the only doctor who can raise the dead, eh?”

“You're certainly in a good mood,” Victor said. His droll tone was betrayed by the smile on his lips.

“We're finally getting out of here, and this dreadful piece of machinery is ready to go. Why shouldn't I be celebrating?”

“I would have given you a ride, you know,” said Victor. He motioned to a large black all-terrain vehicle that was much better suited to the mountain drive than Jekyll's low-riding sports car. Jekyll wondered if it was a rental, as it didn't seem quite Victor's style.

Jekyll considered accepting the offer. Hyde had stolen this car, he had no doubt of that. And it was possible the vehicle would be identified in some town along the way. But after nearly two weeks pent up in the same few rooms with Victor, it felt more natural to say goodbye here, rather than prolong the parting.

“Where's Beth?” Jekyll asked, realizing that Victor had brought some of the lab supplies out to his car, but not his robot wife.

Victor hesitated. He was unable to meet Jekyll's eye.

“She's staying here... I can't repair her after everything that's happened. Vlad left his coffin behind when he went, so I don't think he'd mind Beth using it. Parmes helped me move her and the coffin down to the cellar.”

Jekyll didn't know what to say. Victor once said that Beth was essential to keeping him alive. Without her, he had no one to perform the surgeries he needed to keep his body functioning. Perhaps Victor had plans to build himself a new assistant from scratch, but there was something in the way he talked about leaving Beth behind which made Jekyll think that was not his intention.

He thought about apologizing again, for both himself and for his actions while he was Hyde. But an apology would do nothing to change Victor's lamentable situation; and besides, he had already said he was sorry. Instead, he settled for saying, “Thank you.”

Victor had been staring at his scuffed dress shoes, but looked when Jekyll thanked him.

“For what?” he asked.

“For everything. For putting up with more than the rest of us combined. For resurrecting Parmes. And especially for what you did for William. He wouldn't be here without you. Do you realize that?”

Victor appeared too embarrassed to respond. Jekyll extended a hand toward him, attempting to smooth over the awkward moment with a warm smile.

“It was a pleasure working with you, Doctor Frankenstein.”

Victor stared at his extended hand mutely, but then a similar smile formed on his lips and he accepted Jekyll's handshake.

“No, it wasn't,” he said jokingly, “But if you're ever in Geneva, look me up. I'd love to collaborate with you under different circumstances.”

They exchanged aliases. Jekyll had a cottage in Scotland where he lived under the name Alexander Janus. Victor told him he had houses in both Geneva and Paris, but that he used the name Louis Lazare for both. The ribbed one another for the use of such prosaic surnames, though each man was secretly pleased to share his own cleverness with someone who could appreciate the joke.

“So you're headed back to Geneva, then?”

“Perhaps we'll stop there first, but I imagine we won't stay long. Parmes is interested in finding out what happened to his friend, and I'm going to help him look.”

“His friend?” Jekyll asked with interest. If they were looking for someone Parmes knew, there could be only one man in question.  
“He made the elixir, which means there's a good chance he's still out there. He might be passing himself as a mortal man, same as the rest of us.”

“But any trace of him must have been erased centuries ago,” said Jekyll. “It won't be easy to find him.”

The were interrupted by the Shade, who had crept up on them with eerie silence. Neither one of them heard him approach until he suddenly spoke, “If it's Sosra yer after, I reckon yeh'd better start in Paris.”

“Paris?” Victor asked after giving a start from the Shade's sudden arrival. “What makes you think he'd be there?”

The Shade grinned at him, his mustache curling up at the sides, “I never said he would. But Egyptian artifacts were all the rage once upon a time. I think there might still be some stored in the Louvre. Might be somethin' there worth seein'. And anyway, Erik had to have learned about your Parmes somehow. Might've picked up on some such in his hometown.”

His tone was jovial, but there was something about the Shade that made Jekyll think he wasn't just speculating.

Victor must have caught on as well, for he shrugged his shoulders in feigned disregard and said, “Paris it is, then.”

“Perfect,” said the Shade. He aimed a shout over his shoulder toward Dorian, who was just coming out the front door, followed closely by William and Parmes. “Dorian! The good doctor here has just volunteered to give you a ride into Paris!”

Dorian returned this helpful news with a surly glare. He said nothing in response, though he walked toward Victor's car carrying a suitcase he had probably filled with items pinched from among Dracula's castoffs. Victor made no move to stop him, but he did aim a scowl at the Shade which demanded answers.

The cowboy chuckled, “Dorian's asked... Well, _demanded_ to come with me as I continue my hunt for Erik. He's still missin' his picture, and I got a hunch I know where Erik's hidden it.”

Jekyll couldn't help but ask, “Do you know everything?”

“Nah. Not everythin',” said the Shade. He did not elaborate.

William joined their small circle, shouldering the large backpack he'd brought on the first night there. “Do you think he's really gone? I mean, you don't think he could still be here, watching us?”

He looked nervous. Jekyll understood how he must be feeling. If the Phantom were still among them, he could simply be biding his time, waiting for another opening to attempt a possession.

The Shade didn't appear concerned in the least. “I doubt that, sonny,” he said with ease. “He came a little too close to havin' me catch him this time. I don't think he'd stick around with my being here now.”

“Then will you be joining us, as well?” Victor asked, his eyes on the Shade with an expression of open dislike. Clearly, he hadn't forgiven the Shade for his neutral stance during William's possession.

“Oh no. I'll meet Dorian when y'all reach Paris. I got my own mode of transportation.”

“Is it a horse?” Jekyll asked dryly.

The Shade laughed, “A steel horse, certainly!”

“Then get on it, and let's go!” Dorian shouted. He was already seated in the back of Victor's car. “Haven't you people had enough of this place already.”

The men that remained turned back to one another and exchanged a final smile.

“I suppose this is goodbye,” Victor commented.

“For now,” agreed Jekyll, “But I will look you up. I'd love to hear what you and Parmes find.”

They shook hands again as the Shade quietly withdrew. William and Victor shook hands as well, but Parmes insisted on giving everyone a hug before he joined Victor in the car.

After Jekyll helped William stuff his bag in the boot of their little car, a comfortable silence fell between them. William fiddled with the radio while Jekyll turned the car around, ready to follow Victor down the narrow road that brought them there. He glanced once more at the castle in the rear-view mirror. For a second, he thought he saw a face watching them from one of the windows, white like a mask. But then he blinked, and it was gone.

 

 

_Fin_

 


	35. Why the Y Files?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author addresses a few unanswered questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At best, a Q&A session for an online fanfiction writer is cheesy. At worst, it's a self-serving ploy for more attention. And yet I've had a few interesting questions over the course of writing this story that I'd really like to address. Listed below are some actual questions I've received from readers and friends, as well as a few details about the characters that didn't really fit into the plot. Read on if you're interested, or feel free to skip this chapter, as not knowing these tidbits shouldn't detract from the enjoyment of the story itself.

_Question: How did you select the characters?_

I was inspired by the characters from classic horror movies. Choosing which monsters to use was easy. I selected the most iconic roles from those we've seen countless times in pop culture – from movies to books, TV shows to music, and even one Backstreet Boys music video. I asked myself “what would happen if we took these characters and threw them in a house together?” And from that simple premise, _The Y Files_ was born. I decided to base the characters on the works of literature that inspired their films. Only William and Parmes gave me trouble. I knew I wanted a werewolf and a mummy for my story, but tracking down a literary source for them wasn't as easy as it had been for Dracula and the like. For my mummy, I eventually stumbled on a short story by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. As an avid fan of Sherlock Holmes, choosing Doyle's “The Ring of Thoth” was a no-brainer. I never did find a literary source to inspire William, though making him an American tourist does hearken back to “An American Werewolf in London.”

 

_Question: How long have you been working on The Y Files?_

I started writing the first draft of _The Y Files_ around 8 th or 9th grade, and it wasn't finished until my senior year of high school. It was a comedy more than anything else, in which the characters were sort of competing on a game show for the Phantom's private amusement. The mummy had no name, and could only communicate with the word “curse.” Vinny, Vlad, and William remained much the same, but Jekyll was a complete pushover, Victor was sort of a fop, and a descendant of Abraham VanHelsing was included in the lineup. I hated the end result. I didn't feel like I had done the characters justice. So I started re-reading the source material and jotting notes along the way. Eventually, an actual plot began to form. So from first draft to the final product, this project has taken probably a decade of my life...

 

_Question: What languages to the characters speak?_

This question came from a reader who was interested to see Victor speak with the Phantom in Erik's native French. I've ranked the characters by number of languages spoken, leaving out English, as that's the common tongue in this narrative.

  * Henry Jekyll (both versions of him) can only speak English fluently. He knows a handful of phrases in French, and enough Latin to aid him in his scientific studies.

  * William speaks a tourist's German. He knows enough to see him safely through his backpacking travels, but with frequent mistakes and an atrocious accent.

  * Dorian can speak French, but only slightly better than Will's German. He thinks his accent is very good, but it would make a Parisian retch to hear him speak.



  * Victor was raised in Geneva and educated in Ingolstadt. As such, he grew up speaking French and German.

  * Parmes speaks in an ancient Egyptian dialect that has been lost over time. Thanks to Erik's brain, he can also speak French, English, and Italian.

  * Vlad speaks Romanian, Hungarian, German, French, and Italian. He can read and write Latin. Most may assume he picked up so many languages due to vampire longevity, but in fact, he learned most of these during his human lifetime.

  * Surprisingly, Vinny is conversant in the most languages. He's sort of a savant when it comes to language acquisition. Most of his knowledge comes from his travels abroad, where he picks up various local dialects through immersion.




 

_Question: Can they turn into zombies?_

After Vinny shared his theory that Y was attempting to resurrect the mummy to bring about a zombie apocalypse, I had one reader ask me if it was even possible for any of the characters to become zombies. Of course, this was never really the Phantom's plan, but I did spend a good amount of time considering the possibility. Assuming it's a zombie outbreak due to a virus, my conclusion is that Dracula, Dorian, and Parmes would be safe, even if bitten. Victor, William, Vinny, and Jekyll can absolutely become zombies. In Will's case, he would no longer transform during a full moon, but he would remain in whatever form he had died in. So if he was in wolf-pelt when he succumbed to his bite, there would be a great, hulking werewolf zombie running around. Scary!

 

_Question: Who/What is the Shade?_

I have no idea! He is a concept drawn from _The Phantom of the Opera_. “The Shade in the black felt hat” is only mentioned once, when Raoul and the Persian must hide from him during their search for Erik. I was intrigued by this mysterious figure, whose presence in the story is never explained. Gaston Leroux originally wrote this story in serial form, so it is likely that the enigmatic Shade was simply a plot device forgotten during the writing process. I re-imagined him as the long-lost arch-rival of the Phantom, fulfilling the role of “the Exorcist” which commonly appears in horror films. As to what manner of being the Shade is, and the reason for his longevity, all I will say is that I have a very definite idea in mind, but I leave conjecture up to the readers, just as Leroux himself did.

 

_Question: Will there be a sequel?_

… Did you read the part where I said I've been working on this story for over 10 years? That's an embarrassingly long time. As much as I enjoyed writing about these characters, I am ready to work on another project. And yet I would be lying if I said I haven't imagined scenarios for their future adventures, or possible dialogues with new characters. So while I won't make any promises, I also don't know what the future will hold. Perhaps I will write a sequel some day. Or perhaps I'll just do a few bonus chapters here and there.

 

_Question: What's Next?_

Harry Freaking Potter! Last NaNoWriMo I drafted the first part of my “Harry Potter and the Jackass Sorting Hat” series (final title pending). The story will seek to explore how Harry's life might have been different had he been sorted into Slytherin instead of Gryffindor. The draft is complete so I just have to start my revisions. I hope to start uploading chapters soon!

 

_Bonus: Sexuality?_

This was not a romance story, so there wasn't much place to discuss the sexualities of the characters. Nevertheless, it is a trait I've considered for each character, and will list them here:

  * Victor is heterosexual. This should come as a surprise to no one, as he was married to Beth.

  * Vlad is a vampire, and as such isn't really a sexual creature anymore, but he is still attracted to women.

  * Vinny is asexual. (Sorry Vlad/Vinny shippers.)

  * William is what I've heard referred to has “heteroflexible.” He's only ever dated girls/women, but he wouldn't immediately turn down an offer from a man if he felt they could be compatible.

  * Jekyll is straight, but Hyde is bisexual. Make of that what you will.

  * Parmes lived in a time where labels for one's sexuality simply didn't exist. You were with the person you were with. That said, his one and only love was a woman named Atma, and they never had sex. He is the world's oldest virgin. (Take that Steve Rodgers.)

  * And finally Dorian. He's what you'd call “down to fuck.” It seems insulting to pansexuals to use their signifier for Dorian, because really, he's just a hedonist. Pleasure is his only real concern. Love and romance have nothing to do with it.




 

Many thanks again to everyone who has read this story and supported me along the way. If _The Y Files_ has inspired any of you to read one of the original works on which it is based, then I consider my job well done.

 


End file.
